The Quest Chronicles: Slayer
by Chihuahua
Summary: A JQBuffy Crossover. After a chunk of my lifetime, it's done! Chapter 19 is the final chapter in this installment, and it's up! Thank you all who have stuck with my sporadic posting, and I hope you all enjoyed the ride.
1. Chapter 1: Stake In Hand

From                       : Chihuahua

Date                        : 16th March 2003

Disclaimer                : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category                : A, JJ-HR, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating                    : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note                : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

**THE QUEST CHRONICLES: SLAYER**

Prologue:

                A silent figure crept along the angular shaded areas of the hall, each step reflecting a practised caution, a natural air of awareness. Turning a doorknob silently, the shadow gave the door a slight push before melting into the new darkness that it revealed. The door closed behind, not a creak to give the shadow away.

                Jonny threw back the hood of his dark sweatshirt, revealing his soaked face. His tousled blonde hair was a tangled mess; soaked through and limp, tumbling carelessly over his forehead. As silently as before, he pulled open his closet door and disappeared into it, snatching up a duffel, which he knew lay just under a shelf. He tossed it onto his bed, ignoring the slight rustle it made on contact. 

                He continued to rummage through his clothes, selecting only a few articles that would serve him dutifully enough. He pulled out a few pairs of jeans, cargo pants and a few T-shirts. He stuffed the clothes neatly into the canvas duffel, making sure to include a light sweater. Other miscellaneous articles such as underwear and toiletries soon filled up the remaining space.

                Suddenly, a light pawing shattered the silence he had so painstakingly maintained. Bandit! Behind the pawing he heard light footsteps pacing their way towards his room.

                In a moment, Jonny had flung open his bedroom window, slinging his bag over his shoulder; he dropped himself as carefully as he could to the ground beneath him, landing softly on the wet grass. Without missing a beat, he took off, pulling his hood over his head as he ran, his boots thumping heavily over the sodden ground, not caring how much noise he made. Rain lashed mercilessly at him, threatening to make him lose his footing as he ran. In a moment, the security system, which he had successfully overridden, would kick back into running mode, and all chances of escape would be dashed.

                He had only one chance, and he knew it. The high perimeter wall loomed ahead in the inky darkness, only fractionally visible in the pale moonlight. When he was about five feet from the wall, Jonny manoeuvred his bag deftly and tossed it over the wall, and without breaking his stride, he leapt. Given his newly discovered abilities, his leap carried him over five feet high. Reaching out, his fingers secured a firm grip on the rough stone surface, though it was treacherously slippery. His inertia slammed his body painfully onto the solid surface but he ignored the pain. Moving as though instinctively, he threw his left leg over the wall, followed by his right, before dropping to the ground below. He picked up his duffel and continued running. During his sprint, Jonny risked a look at the stopwatch he had set. His flight had taken a mere minute, making it fully possible to escape the confines of the Compound before Hadji had reset it. Considering the distance between the mansion and the nearest point of the perimeter fence that guarded it from any intrusion, it had taken him less than half the time it would take a fit adult to cover the grounds.

                Jonny grimaced. The shadow was right. He was what the prophecy had claimed him to be…

CHAPTER 1: STAKE IN HAND 

                The rain had not let up, winds whipping anything in its way up and tossing it almost playfully in its grasp. Jonny tugged his sweatshirt even closer to him, trying to insulate himself from the harsh conditions. His efforts were to no avail. Even the optimist in him knew that if he didn't find some sort of shelter soon, and change from his rain-saturated clothes, pneumonia wasn't a hard thing to catch. 

                Jonny glance momentarily at his watch. He had been waiting in whatever shelter the flimsy bus stop had been able to provide for the past half an hour. The winds howled around him, dealing blows of freezing cold that caused his bones to ache at the marrows. The temperature was still rather low for a Maine summer and it had dropped even further when this rainstorm had blown over the area.

                He tried to warm himself up by walking around the confined area, rubbing his palms together, trying to get the circulation back in them. His boots was the only thing that had not suffered much of the wrath of the storm as they had been treated with some experimental solution his father had been developing, resulting in waterproof and fireproof grey suede boots. The only drawback was that the boots used to be a tawny brown.

                On the bright side, at least my feet are dry, he thought cynically. He shivered involuntarily, realising how little insulation from cold a sweatshirt and jean cut-offs provided. He had meant to change to warmer outfits, when he had heard Bandit pawing frantically at his door. 

                Stupid mutt! He thought viciously. But he didn't mean it at all. In fact, he had almost opened the door to let the small dog welcome him with lavish licks, had he not realised that Bandit's pawing would most definitely bring others with him. 

                Twin headlights jolted Jonny back to the numbing reality. Braving the lashing rain for a moment, Jonny stuck out his thumb, hoping desperately that whoever the driver was wouldn't mind letting a soaked hitchhiker hitch a ride.

                A truck came into view, and roared past him. The heat from the engine had delivered a moment of warmth as it rumbled past. Dejected, Jonny got back into the shed, looking out for other vehicles to thumb down.

                Suddenly, he realised that the truck had pulled to a halt several feet away. Keeping his fingers crossed, he trotted over, and pulled the door open.

                "Where ya headed?" came a call from the dark interior.

                "As far as you can take me," Jonny said, trying to see who he was talking to.

                "I'm going as far as Boston." 

                "Good enough!" Jonny hopped into the cab, and made himself as comfortable as possible as the truck began to move. He shivered involuntarily from the chill. His wet clothes clung to him, his hair covering most his eyes.

                "You look frozen, mate," the driver chuckled. "I'll make a short stop at the next gas station or something for you to get out of those." He pointed at Jonny's sopping garments. "Maybe some hot coffee too."

                "Thanks." Jonny smiled wanly, though he doubted that the driver could have seen the smile in the dark. His rubbed his hands together, trying to bring some warmth to them. Problem with being too darn slender… his body temperature was very easily affected by any rapid shift in the surrounding temperature. Race had constantly lectured him on having less than two percent body fat, telling him that it was fine for indoor swimming, but if he were ever to do the oceans, he would definitely suffer from hypothermia. 

                Damn! I hate it when Race's always right.

                "How far away is the next stop?" Jonny asked, turning to face the driver.

                "Twenty miles give or take."

                Jonny held out his hand. "By the way, I'm Brett. Thanks for the ride."

                The driver stuck out a thick paw, double the thickness of Jonny's hand and shook it, while never taking his eyes of the road. "Name's Burt. Now, where are ya headed?"

                Jonny hesitated a moment. 

                Burt saw his hesitation and added, "Ya don't hafta tell me if it's private. I'm just nosin' around, making small talk, that kinda thing, ya know?"

                "I'm headed for Louisiana." It was the first place that came to mind. He hoped it sounded convincing.

                Burt whistled. "Pretty long way to be on the road. Why the long trip?"

                "Personal issues…" Jonny trailed off in a thoughtful manner, which he simply did not share. It was just a simple case of fleeing trouble to him.

                The neon lights of a gas station loomed ahead. Jonny noticed that some areas were darkened off, probably from blown out lights. Not that it mattered much to him, he was just stopping for a quick change of clothes. 

                The gas station was a small building, with three gas pumps. The shop was closed for the night, but the restrooms were thankfully left unlocked. Darting inside with his duffel, he stripped off his wet clothes, tossing them into a plastic bag before tucking it neatly away in his duffel. He pulled on a powder blue long-sleeved turtleneck T-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans, before fingering his hair into place. Tucking a few stray ends behind his ears, he exited the place. 

                Burt was waiting for him, leaning against a vending machine. Surprisingly, it was functional as Burt handed him a steaming cup of cocoa as he sipped from his own polystyrene cup. It was definitely coffee, as Jonny could smell the aroma. Personally, he would have preferred coffee, but he wasn't about to complain. Any source of warmth was welcome with him.

                He sipped tentatively at his drink, feeling the hot liquid coursing its way down his throat. It scalded his tongue a little, but he couldn't have cared less at the moment. He nursed the cup in his clammy hands, warming them as best he could. When he finally felt warmed, he finished the remainder of his cocoa and tossed the cup into a trashcan situated next to the vending machine. 

                Jonny looked around, surveying his surroundings with utmost scrutiny, taking in every shadow, every movement, his trained vision looking out for anything out of the ordinary. Unconsciously, his right hand grabbed at a stake he always tucked at his waistband. He could feel his spare in his right boot. Grimacing slightly, he turned towards the truck and got ready to continue.

                Burt was already behind the wheel, tapping a steady rhythm on the steering wheel. Over the static, Jonny could hear a few strains of some country song. He slid into the seat beside Burt and made himself as comfortable as possible. The truck jerked forward and they were on the road once more. Jonny didn't bother looking back. How far he was already from it… how long ago had he left it? When would he return?

The steady rumble of the engine didn't affect his train of thought.

***

                Buffy Summers shouldered her bag and took a small hop off the cranky bus she had been on for the past ten hours. Her feet made a soft thud as she landed on the sidewalk. Her shadow was long, beneath the streetlamp. Instinctively, her senses went to work, scouting the area for any demonic activity. Her body tensed, getting ready to spring into action. 

                Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Without a moment's thought, she whirled around, hands ready to pulp any ridged-brow demon hybrid's face. She came face to face with an elderly lady. Buffy recognised her as the woman sitting in the row in front of her. Her fists immediately dropped to her sides.

                "I'm sorry to startle you, dearie. I just wanted to tell you that there's a motel further up this street, that's if you don't already have any lodgings," the lady said, smiling gently. Her southern drawl was rather pleasing to the ear.

                Buffy smiled gratefully. "Thank you." Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she began trotting over in the direction of the motel. She sniffed the night air, taking in the stench of the garbage left to rot in the dark alleys. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and quickened her pace.

                Suddenly, she whipped out a stake from a pocket sewn inside her jacket and spun around… to be greeted by a snarling vamp. Buffy smiled sardonically, before slamming a palm directly under the vamp's chin, slamming its jaw shut. The clack of bone was loud enough to raise her spirits. Then, she slammed a heavy backhand into its face before kicking it at the sternum, hearing the bones crack with some satisfaction. Before the vamp had any time to recover from the brutal assault, she plunged the stake deep into its chest, the wood finding and puncturing the heart. Where the vamp had stood a second ago, was now covered with a fine layer of dust.

                Buffy looked around, waiting for another assault. Finally satisfied, she tucked her stake back into her jacket. No rest for the exhausted, she chagrined. The motel was a sorry sight, the door itself looked as if it was going to fall off its rusty hinges. After she paid the night in advance, Buffy headed for her room, following the vague instructions of the guy at the counter.

                The room was in no better condition than the rest of the building, but she let that pass. The walls; which were once a shade of green, were peeling, the carpet worn-out in many areas. She dumped her stuff on the floor and threw herself onto the bed. At least it was relatively comfortable, as compared to a bus seat. It was also surprisingly clean.

                Sighing softly, she pulled herself into a sitting position. She knew what she needed more than anything right now.

                A good hot shower. But she would settle for a cold one anyway.

***

                Jonny opened his eyes, and immediately shut them again, shutting out the blinding glare of the morning sun. Blobby shapes danced about his vision. Slowly, he opened them again, slowly letting them adjust to the startling light.

                "Mornin'!" a friendly call greeted him.

                Jonny turned and saw Burt smiling jovially at him. Another bloody morning person, he thought viciously.

                "Mornin'," he returned, merely repeating Burt's tone. "How long have I been out?"

                Burt whistled. "You've been out for hours, boy!" He checked his watch briefly. "Give or take, six hours."

                "Whoa!" Jonny exclaimed. "That's long."

                Burt simply chuckled. "We'll be hitting Boston soon. You want me to hook you up with anyone? I've got a few buddies who'll be heading further down south," he offered.

                Jonny shook his head, hoping that his declination seemed polite. "That's okay, thanks. I'll find my own way about."

                Burt shrugged his shoulders, but his brow creased slightly. Why would anyone decline an offer of an easy ride? What was the kid afraid of? He let it pass. It wasn't like he was the kid's parent or anything. He promised a trip as far as Boston, that's all.

                Jonny pretended to be oblivious to Burt's expression, but he had his own reasons to decline the offer. He needed to travel anonymously, and make his trail as light as possible. If he had accepted the offer, he would have to use the same name all the way, and provided the cops were smart enough, his trail would probably be fairly easy to follow. It wasn't a chance he would like to take, as the probability of trouble seemed high enough for him to shun it.

                "How much longer till we hit Boston?"

                "Another two hours or so. Don't you just hate these long windy roads?"

                Jonny nodded. 

                The rest of the trip was an experience Jonny couldn't forget. Two hours of excruciatingly painful banter about nothing with lies to fill in the gaps. 

***

                "How the heck did he do it?"

                "Do what?"

                "Get through the security and get out before the system kicked on again, that's what."

                Hadji smiled gently. "He's Jonny. I think that should pretty much explain everything."

                Race sighed. "Okay, I guess that explains how he managed to override the system, but that does not explain how he managed to get out in less than sixty seconds. The nearest point from the mansion to the Compound perimeter is approximately five hundred metres. There's no way he could have cleared that much ground under a minute."

                Hadji mulled over the matter briefly, before showing his agreement. "You're right. It would have taken a truly blessed individual to have been able to perform such a feat."

                After a moment of silence, they both said in unison, "Then again, it's Jonny!"

                Hadji chuckled slightly, despite himself. "You once said that he could jump into a lake and come out dry. I guess now he can make a five hundred metre dash in under a minute."

                "He just isn't human, that kid," Race declared, with a note of finality in his voice, although it carried a tinge of desperation.

                "On the contrary, he's very much human," a smooth baritone interrupted. "In fact, he could be one of humanity's last chances of survival."

                "You found the backdoor he implanted into the system?" Race asked.

                Benton nodded. "Quite ingenious actually. It was a dormant bug, in which Jonny made his own override access code. Once the code was imputed, the system would temporarily suspend, until the backdoor was closed." Benton sighed audibly. "I guess that teaches me a valuable lesson, never trust Jonny with any debugging assignment. Especially not a complex security system. It's too darn tempting for him."

                "Didn't you give the system a once over before certifying it, Father?" Hadji enquired, tapping his slender fingers on the tabletop.

                Benton nodded. "But I wasn't as thorough as I thought I was. This is proof of that."

                The three were silent for a few minutes, the intensity of the situation overpowering them.

                "Maybe he didn't get out," Hadji suggested. "Maybe he's still within the Com…"

                "I've already checked that possibility. Heat scanners aren't showing any heat patterns big enough to be that of a seventeen year old boy," Benton replied.

                "Unless maybe the kid's code blocked off more then simply the security. Maybe the heat sensors were also affected," Race offered.

                Benton nodded gravely. "There's only one thing that makes that theory less than feasible to me. It's Jonny we're talking about, not some other reckless teenager. He would not leave us vulnerable like that."

                "That brings us back to square one, Doc."

                There was no reply.

                "What if he's never found?" Hadji asked.

                "The consequences could be more dire than expected, if that should transpire."

***

                Race slipped into the inky darkness that had once been Jessie's room. It had been nearly a week, and yet the grief was still so close to him. Only a week. Race let it loose, releasing all his frustrated agony. Tears dripped off his angled cheekbones, plunging to their undoing on the carpeted floor. 

                He sank into the soft beanbag, gazing upwards. Each breath brought in a part of her; he could still smell her scent, as if she had just left the room. So young… so much ahead of her. Why God, why? Why did she have to go so soon? WHY?

                Tears continued to stream effortlessly down his stubbly cheeks.

                "Race, you okay?" a gentle voice invaded his inward ranting.

                "I'm fine," he replied in a clipped voice.

                Benton stepped into the room, his footsteps muted by the plush carpet. Invading Jessie's room!

                Race leapt to his feet. "Leave!" he said, stoically.

                "Race, talk to me. You need to let it out," Benton reasoned, backing away slightly at the sight of the hulking figure.

                "You don't understand… she's none of your business."

                "She IS my business. Just as you are my business. We; Hadji, Jonny and me, we care for you!"

                "She's gone, Benton. Gone! And I wasn't there to protect her. Her Daddy wasn't there at the end…" Race wept openly now. "I wasn't there!"

                Benton pulled Race into a comforting hug. "She knew that you would have been there if you could. It's okay, Race. It wasn't your fault."

                "And now, Jonny. Jonny's gone too… I failed, Benton. I failed miserably. As a father. As a bodyguard."

                "You failed no one. Jonny ran away, there was nothing you could have done." Benton felt his own tears trickling down his face. "Let's just hope that he'll return soon."

                Race stepped back, his face grim. "Is there something you're not telling me, Benton?" His icy irises pierced the darkness… glinting dangerously, as if daring Benton to lie.

                "Why do you ask?" was the cool response.

                "Oh, nothing… except for the fact that you're using that tone that usually pronounces a dire situation. And I'm totally unaware of this situation. And I _hate_ surprises, or rather shocks!"

                "When the time comes, Race. Not now… not when he's not back." There was a note of finality in his voice that even Race didn't want to test. These were one of the rare occasions in which the doc would become highly unpredictable. Race grimaced at the memory of when he had seen the doc totally lose his cool. Race would have put good money on the kid never ever wanting anything to do with the doc. Another rookie from the I-1 got a good lashing from the doc's verbal abuse. Heck, even Corbin was wary around the doc.

                Race decided to let it go. For now anyway.

                "Get some rest, Race. You've hardly had six hours sleep in the past thirty hours." Benton's expression has softened again, showing his genuine concern for the younger man.  He received a nod in response.

***

                A slender silhouette flicked a quick glance to either direction, before leaping onto a dumpster, and with barely a second in between before a similar motion carried him the remaining three feet above, making it possible for him to hoist himself onto the rickety stairs of an emergency escape route. The shadows hid him well, and Jonny felt relatively safe. The neighbourhood was still quiet, dawn was hardly an hour away.

                He made his way stealthily towards the abandoned apartment he had found a couple of days ago. It wasn't much, pretty much as dirty and dusty as they came, but it provided shelter from the rain. He slid into the apartment and yanked the filthy curtains across the window, allowing himself some privacy and making some allowance for some light. It had been an exhausting night, and he showed the wear and tear of the experience. A long gash ran down his right arm while a bruise was already forming just at his right cheekbone. 

                Six vampires on one, he was lucky to have gotten out alive. Too bad for them, none of them made it out alive… or dead, so to speak. The only evidence that a fight had taken place were the crushed aluminium trashcans he had landed heavily on and the sprinklings of dust in different areas of the alley.

                Jonny grimaced at the condition of the T-shirt he had been wearing. It reeked of sour fruit and rotten stuff. He needed a shower, badly, and he knew one place he could get it. The local high school. He knew it always opened at about seven-thirty, when the janitor came. He would simply have to slip in and take a quick shower before making his exit. It wouldn't matter much if there were people around. After all, how strange was a teenager in a high school?

                Till then, Jonny decided to take a short nap. His joints ached slightly from the pounding he had received barely three hours ago. He knew his wounds would heal, in a fraction of the time it would take an average human being. But then again, those were the perks that came in his Slayer package, not that he had the choice. 

                He had no choice.

To be continued…

Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com 


	2. Chapter 2: Hunters

From                       : Chihuahua

Date                        : 16th March 2003

Disclaimer              : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category                : A, JJ-HR, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating                    : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note       : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

CHAPTER 2: HUNTERS 

NEW ORLEANS

                Jonny slapped at a mosquito that had landed on his arm. A slight stubble was evident on his face, lending an unkempt appearance to the once carefree face. It had been a week of continuous train rides, hitching rides and stowing away. On the most part, he was worn out, and all he wanted was a nice place to sleep. 

                Over the past week, he had been in Baltimore, Arlington, Salem, Chattanooga, Montgomery and finally, New Orleans. He barely stayed more than a day in any place, Salem being the longest. He had slain over ten vamps there. 

                He had been moving steadily towards the West Coast, aiming for somewhere in California. Most likely in San Francisco. Right now, he was waiting, not too patiently, for his ride to Santa Fe. His duffel was already in the backseat of the silver Chevy. The owner of the car appeared from the restrooms and motioned for him to get in.

                Scenery flashed by, as the driver sped on, singing along to some rock channel. Jonny just tuned out and concentrated on the trees and other things go whizzing by. Slightly more than two weeks ago, he had a home. Now, he was running away from everything. 

                "Where you from, kid?" the driver enquired, breaking the ice.

                "Cincinnati." Jonny's answer was short.

                "Why you headed for Santa Fe then?"

                "I got kicked out of home. I got a job offer in Cincinnati; my uncle offered me a job, so that's where I'm headed." Not even close to the truth, Jonny thought in chagrin. 

                "Tough, huh?" The driver didn't even seem sympathetic. Probably just trying to make conversation. Jonny cursed the fact that this non-sincere conversation was probably going to carry on for the next few days.

                He simply nodded. "Bloody hell! Are there no end of mosquitoes here?" he exclaimed, smashing another one of the pesky bugs on his arm. It was going to be a long journey.

***

 SAN FRANCISCO

                Nightfall in the city was beautiful. The lights lit up the bay. Only problem was the fog. Jonny ran a hand through his grimy hair, cringing at the feel of it. His skin already felt sticky from the past few days. He had taken a short shower probably three days ago.

                A sharp scream shattered the silence like thin ice. Jonny took off towards the direction of the screams. So the vamp action wasn't on the all time low here either. He was now somewhere near the wharf, he could smell the salt in the air. He ducked into an alley, and saw three vampires holding on to young boy. The kid was probably about thirteen. One of the damned creatures maw was already bloody.

                "Put him down!" Jonny yelled. Simultaneously, he slammed his left elbow into one of their faces, cracking the nose. The vamp whimpered in pain, but his misery was cut short as Jonny jammed his stake through the heart.

                The one with the bloody mouth threw the boy aside and threw a punch at Jonny. The punch was countered easily, and Jonny landed a staggering kick to its midsection. Whirling around, he grabbed the last one and threw him hard into the concrete wall. Just as the vampire bounced back, Jonny held up his stake for it to impale itself upon. 

                Turning around, he saw the leader running away. Aiming swiftly, he threw his stake at the fleeing figure. The stake spun in the air, hitting its mark. The vamp was dusted even before he knew what hit him.

                Jonny turned his attention to the boy. "You okay?"

                "Yeah, I think. That was so cool, what you did." 

                Jonny smiled. The kid was definitely fine. Probably lost a little blood. "Go home."

                The boy nodded and took off, his skateboard clutched tightly. 

                Jonny picked up his duffel and tucked his stake away in his belt. He made sure that it was hidden from sight. His sharp senses detected the attack before it could take him by surprise and he blocked a powerful snap kick, throwing his bag aside in the same fluid motion. In a flash, he returned a powerful roundhouse kick, and was surprised when his assailant dodged the kick expertly, countering with one of her own, which he barely cleared in time.

                Jonny threw himself into a back flip, putting some distance between the attacker and him. He assessed her quickly, taking in her build and forming an attack strategy. He would need it, as this didn't seem to be the run of mill type of vampire. She was petite, small even, barely more than five foot two. Definitely not frail, in fact she looked lithe, like some lesser jungle cat. Heck, she was even holding a cat stance right now, awaiting his next move. Blonde hair, from what he could tell in the dim lighting. Funny, her feral features had not taken over… but that didn't make her any less deadly.

                As if tired of waiting, she flipped forward, sweeping him off his feet before he could react. Slayer reflexes took over as he propelled his body upwards and forwards with his hands, slamming both feet into her midsection. He landed neatly on his feet and lunged forward to get in a couple of punches before he staked her. She seemed to recover just as quickly and foiled his attack with a quick backhand, which he parried. 

                "I hate out-of-towners," she muttered, a sardonic grin on her face.

                Jonny snickered. "Pot calling the kettle black? You seem pretty far from home, L.A. Girl!"

                Then, they were both at it, a spectacle of martial arts and street fighting. She seemed as surprised as he was as each attack was either blocked or parried with ease. Jonny however was getting pissed off… he was taking as much as he was giving, and he just wasn't pleased with it. Let's just end it…

                Delivering a stunning back thrust, he whipped out his stake and dove in for the kill. And stopped the wooden edge from going in, just inches above her heaving chest. She had paused her assault too, and as he already saw, she had a stake at his chest too, the splintery end just grazing his tan chest which was exposed due to the fact that the fight had resulted in three lost buttons.

                Edging warily, Jonny retreated several steps, his eyes narrowed suspiciously at his opponent, who was also edging away in a vague semicircle. What was a vamp doing with a stake? Were vampires so brutal that they had to resort to using stakes against one another as protection?

                "Who are you?" they both intoned monotonously at the same time.

                Silence. The scuffle of boots on the damp asphalt seemed loud as the tension mounted.

                Finally, Jonny lowered his stake, his body losing the rigid poise it had adopted. "A moment's truce?"

                The girl begrudgingly agreed, setting down her stake too. "Now talk!" she barked. "Who or what the hell are you?"

                "I would like to know the same thing about you!"

                Her arm tensed and she raised her stake. "Don't play games with me Pretty Boy. I'm just a second away from skewering you."

                Jonny snorted in response, partially because he had nothing to say. "Alright then, since I'm about to die, why don't you share first? No harm there since you're gonna shish kebab me with your little toothpick anyway."

                Even more silence. 

                Finally she gave up. "Fine! But get ready for some thrashing before I dust you."

                Dust me? Jonny's mind was whirring. What did she mean by dust me? Doesn't she know that I'm a Slayer? What is she? Dust me? Unless…

                "Name's Buffy Summers. I'm a…"

                "Vampire Slayer," Jonny finished.

                "You catch on pretty quick."

                "No. I mean, yeah, I catch on fast, but I'm not a vamp." He looked at her bored expression. "I'm a Slayer."

                Her eyebrow shot up quizzically. "Right… You're a guy right?"

                "Last time I checked in my pants, yeah. And so?"

                "All Slayers are girls, that's what. It's written in the books."

                "What books?"

                "The books… ya know, those old ones that smell all funny and stuff." God, I wished Giles were here to explain this stuff.

                "Oh well, guess the books were wrong." He flashed her a smile. 

                "What do you mean the books are wrong, Pretty Boy?"

                "Stop calling me that!"

                "What? Pretty Boy?"

                "Yeah!"

                "Then tell me your name!"

                Jonny felt a little sheepish at that. "Jonny Quest. He-Slayer, I guess." He tucked his stake back into his belt. Something told him that she was what she said she was, and he had learnt a long time ago to always trust his instincts.

                She did the same. "What are you doing here? Ya know, in San Fran."

                "Searching. For someone."

                "You staying long?"

                "Probably not. Just until I find this person."

                "You got anyplace to go?"

                Jonny shrugged. "Just got here. I'll probably find someplace easy. Me being a Pretty Boy and all and this place littered with those multi-coloured flags." He grinned his lopsided grin at her scandalised expression. "Or not," he added.

                She turned and began to walk away. "I've got a place for a while. If you're interested…"

                "Offer accepted," Jonny cut in, gratitude obvious in his tone. He would be damned if he had to spend another night in a dilapidated building.

                He followed her as she navigated the neighbourhood, as if there was nothing on her mind, but Jonny could see that her shoulders were slightly tensed, a sign that her arms were just a heartbeat away from pulping a vamp. He had been at the receiving end of her punches and he knew that she was pretty generous when it came to dishing out the hard ones.

                The made it to a dimly lit building without any hassle. An old, unlit sign indicated that it was a motel… pretty rundown looking. But he wasn't going to complain.

                "Well, this is it. My pad." She spread her arms in mock pride. "Kinda dark and dinghy and all, but at least nothing leaks and there is some lukewarm water when you need it."

                Jonny nodded. "Nice…"

                Buffy sensed that the guy had been raised in far better facilities than this. At least he's not a whiner. Then again, the claim of Slayer-hood pretty much sobered and matured a person. She was speaking from very personal experience here. "Shower's on the left. Just taking a guess, you haven't taken one in a couple of days."

                Jonny grinned. "I guess it kinda shows, huh?"

                "More like smells. But yeah." 

                He tossed his duffel to the side and stripped off his jacket and placed it on the bag. 

                "Are there any extra towels in there?"

                She simply nodded and left to give him some privacy. Not that it mattered much as she could pretty much see him from anywhere in the room. He disappeared from sight, into the bathroom, and she began to rethink some plans.

                A minute later, she heard the shower gushing. It stopped after a while and a clean looking but very undressed guy stepped out.

                "Sorry, forgot my clothes," he explained, stepping towards the duffel. He knelt down and found a change of clothes and retreated back into the bathroom. He emerged moments later, clean and dressed in a baggy pair of drawstring pants and a white T-shirt with ice-blue 'Q' in the front.

                Buffy nodded towards a small folding chair in the corner, signalling him to sit. He pulled the chair closer to the bed and raised an eyebrow as he positioned himself on the hard plastic surface.

                "Okay, explain…"

                He looked surprised. "Explain what?"

                "For starters, what's a loaded kid like yourself doing out here by yourself?"

                "How do you know I'm loaded?"

                She picked up his jacket from the side and handed it to him. "I've been shopping long enough to recognise a genuine Armani when I see one, and this happens to be last season's Fall collection, costing about five hundred dollars in full." She looked him in the eye. "You don't seem like the thieving kind… so explain."

                Jonny looked at her with some respect. "Okay, my family's wealthy. So what? Since when was there a caste system in the Slayer hierarchy?"

                "Okay. When were you called? As in when did you inherit your powers and all? 'Coz I'm still alive, and that means no other has been summoned to the calling yet."

                "I don't know when I was called. I was only told about it a couple of months ago."

                "But, your fighting tactics…"

                "You mean how is it that I could hold my own against another seasoned Slayer?" When she nodded, he continued, "I've been training for years. Not to kick demon ass but as a survival tool." Seeing her confused look, he added, "Long story, and totally irrelevant to this."

                She nodded. That would do, for now.

                "As for what I'm doing out here by myself, I'm hunting down a gang of vampires from Maine."

                "Why are you hunting them? Under normal circumstances, a Slayer would simply battle evil in her part of the world, not go globetrotting after vamps"

                "These one's are special. I've sworn to hunt each and every one of them down. Personal business." He fell silent.

                "Chick issues?" she enquired, driving the nail home.

                "Yeah, more or less." He straightened up. "Okay, let's talk about you now. Just start by answering the questions you asked me, L.A. Girl."

                Buffy glared at him. Then she softened. "I'm not from L.A. I mean I was, a long time ago. Slayer-hood kinda screwed up my life, so my mom and I moved to Sunnydale. The Powers That Be are a nasty set of buggers, and I landed right on top of the Hellmouth. Nice town, till you get to the history part. Apparently the town is resting on top of the Hellmouth, the place where the veils of the realm are weakest. Meaning of course that it's a hotspot for demons and the evil population."

                "How long you've been at this?"

                "I think I was about fourteen of fifteen. It kinda kicked my teen years into a blurry Hell of fighting and slaying." Her tone was wistful. "I'm here because I need some downtime on some stuff."

                He didn't say anything, but he knew she could tell that he understood. Over the years, Watchers had become so accustomed to having girls with superhuman abilities bestowed upon them that over the years, they had forgotten that these were just girls. People, with feelings

                "I guess that concludes our show for the night, Oprah!" he said, trying to break the tension the room. He received a wan smile in return. "I'll just scoot over to my corner." He got up and pulled open the creaky closet door and yanked out a couple of extra pillows and two blankets. He laid one down flat as bedding before lying down on the floor. He was out before he knew it.

                Buffy gazed at the sleeping figure on the floor for a moment. She knew that there was a lot that he wasn't telling her, but she didn't exactly feel like pushing him for info. She decided to let him come around on his own. Watching the frown that furrowed his brow slightly, she wondered how old he was. It was as though he carried a whole lot more on his shoulders than she did. That being said, she was still puzzled about the entire male Slayer thing. Had the Powers That Be screwed up after Kendra's death and summoned a guy instead. Or maybe he was some kind of vigilante. He did admit that part of his mission revolved around chick problems.

                Like he would ever have chick problems, she thought. The guy was extremely good-looking, hot even. A couple of years ago, she knew she would have been interested. But now, his air of mystery irked her a little. The resemblance to Angel was painfully close. Sure they looked different, Angel was all broody and pale but this boy was blonde and from what she could see, he was tan all over. She recognised his type almost immediately, carefree and popular, easygoing with people. Probably smart too. That was why the frown seemed out of place. It didn't seem to fit in the picture.

                Then again, a few things seemed to be pretty patchy about him. For starters, the ring and two studs in his left ear seemed oddly out of place now as he slept… not because they looked bad on him, but because the sleeping figure seemed somewhat angelic. A tortured martyr, Buffy thought sarcastically.

                Buffy sighed. Things were too complicated for her right now. She got off the bed and changed into a pair of grey sweats and a yellow tank top. Hell, downtime from slaying already seemed to be a distant excuse for her running away. As much as she hated to admit it, she just didn't feel like she could face up to the rest of the gang… even though she had killed Angel. The irony of the situation never escaped her… here she was, the Slayer, the one being in the world who could stand up to the forces of evil, and she was afraid of confronting her own family and friends.

***

                A slender figure paced the cracked courtyard, lost in thought. Her copper mane swished every so often, like the tail of a cow at an annoying fly. He could tell from her poise that she was tensed, even angry. He was amused. He found it very titillating when she was fiery.

                As he continued to observe her, he felt a presence behind him. Whirring around, all fangs and fists, he came face to face with another of the several women in his life. So to speak, as he wasn't actually alive.

                "Ah, here you are. I've been searching all over for you!" his mistress exclaimed. Her English was flawless, with a slight accent giving it an exotic finish. And exotic she was too, with her raven locks, which cascaded in a tumble of curls down to her shoulders. Her eyes were a dramatic contrast against her alabaster skin; dark and expressive, framed with heavy lashes of midnight. Her lips; which were pouting now, were wide and full, and always painted a deep red, as the had been when he had first met her centuries ago.

                He gazed at her for a second, letting his eyes trail downwards to the slinky figure in a black dress that might have been the anointing paint they often used on each other in kinkier moments.

                "I'm sorry. I was just about to ask Jessie if we were still being followed," he said, a lopsided smile playing at his lips.

                She moved closed to him, embracing his softly, pressing her full lips onto his. "Are you sure she isn't just crazy?" she whispered, her lips gently brushing his ears.

                "No, she isn't. I've seen him more than once, tracking us."

                She pulled away from his, pouting once again. "You should never have claimed her."

                "How should I know it would have such a mistake?"

                She smiled coquettishly. "I should punish you. In fact, I would _like_ to punish you…" Her words fading off, playing with him. Without warning, she vamped out suddenly, and bit his exposed throat.

                He gasped, but did not push her away. He followed her as she led him back to their "love-nest", moaning softly as she worked her bites down his torso.

                Jessie watched the two in disdain. She had no idea why Brad had not dumped that old crone yet. Of course she didn't look any older than twenty, she had been turned then, and would forever hold her beauty, unless of course she was killed. That could be arranged. Jessie smiled sardonically.

                She redirected her thoughts to her own peril. She somehow she knew that she was being hunted. They were all being hunted. He was pursuing them, relentlessly. She sensed his presence all the time, day or night. She knew he was already in town. 

                Jonny. The name had once been welcome when she felt afraid. Now, it was the source of her problems… his endless and tireless pursuit of her. It was her fault actually… she had bound herself to him, making it possible for them to share a bond stronger than ever. She had cast it in an attempt to ensure that she would always be aware of his whereabouts. It had been a desperate moment in her life.

                How else would she have reacted? He was her boyfriend, and she wasn't willing to let him go just because he was the Slayer. Nobody else had known about his double identity… only her. It made it all the worse that he would come home some nights, bruised all over, with cuts and grazes that made it seem that he had been involved in some gang fight. Which he could very well have been… against a gang of vampires.

                It tortured her to not be able to tell anybody about his nocturnal activities. The fear of losing him haunted her, invading her every thought and dream. 

Of course he had reassured her that he would be safe. Of course he had told her not to worry. But the fear clung to her every night as she saw him marching off into the night, not wanting the passionate kiss he gave her before leaving to be the last they ever shared.

THREE WEEKS AGO

Jessie checked her watch for the fifteenth time in the hour. It was late, and he was taking much longer than he usually did. The seconds ticked by, the rhythmic sway of the pendulum keeping each second. She checked her watch again, and flicked a glance over to the grandfather clock to see if her watch was off. It read exactly the same, two o'clock.

Jessie hated to admit it, but she was scared. Frightened out of her mind to be exact… She had never so much wanted to tell her father everything, hoping that he could make things go back to the way they used to be. To make sure that Jonny would come home alive… so that they could at least have another day, another night together.

She checked her watch again. Barely thirty seconds had passed since she last checked. 

"JONNY QUEST HAS ENTERED THE PREMISES." Jessie jumped at IRIS's mechanical voice. Then, realising what it meant, she ran to the door and waited for him to enter. Jonny had warned her time and time again to make sure that he got through the door by himself… just in case. Of course the fact that he crossed the gate into private property was a good enough indicator that he had not been turned, but he insisted that Jessie not take any chances.

The door opened, but nobody came striding in. Instead, a bloodied and bruised figure crawled through the front door, dragging himself in.

Jessie didn't ask any questions. She helped him up, and with great effort, she managed to support most of his weight on her as they stumbled up the stairs. Jonny made a feeble attempt to flash her his trademark lopsided grin but it evidently hurt too much as he groaned softly instead. They stumbled into his room, Jonny falling heavily onto the lime green beanbag on the floor. He let out a low moan.

Jessie helped him up again, and half dragged him into the bathroom where he slumped to the floor against the shower stall. In the harsh white light, he looked horrible. He was bloody everywhere with pale skin peeping out. His clothes were soiled and bloody, rips in a multitude of places. 

Choking back her fear and sobs, Jessie set to work, gently tugging off his jacket before coaxing off the pale blue T-shirt he wore under it. She threw open the medicine cabinet doors, knowing exactly where to find a clean sponge. She had stocked the cabinet with new sponges upon knowing off the horrors Jonny's new calling required him to face and she was thankful she did now. 

She soaked the sponge in warm water and proceeded to clean him up as best she could. She sobbed silently as each time she rinsed the sponge, the water would run down bloody and dirty. When she was done cleaning him from the waist up, he looked relatively familiar. 

"Hey, Jess!" His voice was a mere whisper, barely louder than her sobs.

Jessie looked up in surprise. She had thought he had passed out from exhaustion. Her eyes met his and he held her there for a second. 

"I'm so sorry," he muttered. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this, every night." His voice was stronger now. Jessie realised with relief that his Slayer healing capabilities were working.

"Shh… not now. You can apologise for all your pigheadedness later on. Now hold still!" she said, managing a small smile. She held an antiseptic soaked cotton ball and began to treat each wound.

"Oww… that smarts, Jess!" he hissed, jerking away.

"Shut up. If you can take all that bashing and make it home alive, the least you can do right now is to shut up and let me finish you up!" she reprimanded. 

"So, how do I look?" he asked, gritting him teeth at the end of his sentence when her cotton ball brushed a sensitive spot.

"You mean besides bloody and bruised. Pretty darn handsome."

He smiled at that.

"But more banged up though," she finished. "Done!" She straightened up for a second, and then threw all the cotton balls into the trash. 

"Don't I at least get a kiss for keeping Rockport safe for another night?" he asked, a shadow of his usual grin forming on his bruised face.

"You'll get a lot of bandages and band-aids," Jessie admonished. She sighed, it took a lot of guts to sound lecherous when one was obviously in a lot of pain. She knelt down and gave him a gentle kiss, careful to not further injure him.

"Can we do the bandaging back in the room 'coz this floor is really hurting my ass?"

"Can you stand?" she asked.

"I guess." He managed to pull himself onto his feet, with a lot of help from Jessie. Jessie was worried that all the moaning and groaning would wake up the household. She was thankful for the thickness of the walls.

"Anything broken below the waist?" she enquired, suddenly realising that she had forgotten to check.

"Dear God, I hope not!" Jonny exclaimed in mock horror.

"I meant any bones!" she growled. "But I'm glad to hear that you're still 'secure'."

Jonny smirked. "No, bones are all intact. Probably sustained a couple of bruises here and there, that's all."

"Are you sure?" She was glad that he was able to support most of his weight this time as they hobbled over to his bed.

"Admit it. You just wanna check!" He laughed, before letting out a groan when he realised that the sudden movement hurt his ribs.

"Been there, done that." She let him fall back onto the bed. She went back into the bathroom and gathered a few rolls of bandages and a box of band-aids. They were both thankful that the more serious injuries could be hidden under clothes. The rest of the injuries would have partially healed by morning.

"Thank God it's Saturday tomorrow!" he exclaimed, wriggling into a more comfortable position.

Jessie only nodded. She tugged the covers over him. "Call me if you need anything, okay?" She leaned over and gave him a soft kiss, which he returned hungrily.

She pulled away after a while. "Not tonight. Go rest."

She left his room, but did not return to hers. She went downstairs and headed for the family library. The pale moonlight that filtered through the tall windows covered the floor with silver squares as she crossed the room determinedly. She knew exactly what she wanted and where to find it.

She had discovered sometime ago that Dr. Quest had a huge collection of arcane texts, including an extensive compilation of journals. She vaguely remembered seeing a journal belonging to an Aztec High Priest. 

"IRIS, lights on!" she commanded. The response was immediate and the room was flooded with light. Jessie began to rifle through the rack holding all the ancient texts. She was surprised to see a few scrolls there. Those must have been fairly new. Finally, she found the book she was looking for. She eased it out gently, taking care not to crack the spine. The journal was leather-bound, the leather creased and cracked. Jessie knew from experience that the leather was old, but definitely not ancient. She guessed that it had been compiled and bound by some collector ages ago, to help preserve that delicate parchments that lay inside. 

Jessie carried the heavy book over to the large teak table that stood in the middle of the room. She began to leaf though it, handling each page with care. She was halfway through the journal when she found what she was looking for. A binding spell. From what she could translate of the writing, it was an ancient ritual performed upon marriage to bind a wife to her husband forever, so that she would not stray.

Jessie read the yellow page thoroughly, taking in every sentence and every word. She was relieved to find that she understood every word. She silently gave thanks to her mother who had taken her on most of her archaeological digs and thought her all she knew about the ancient civilisations. 

The ritual was fairly easy, for something with such a huge effect. Jessie shut the book with iron resolve. She knew what to do, and she was going to do it.

                Jessie walked over to Jonny's sleeping form. She watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. In her right hand, she clutched a ceremonial dagger, which her mother had given her on her twelfth birthday. She raised it and slashed a line across her left palm. She bit back her cry of pain.

                Gently, she placed her bleeding palm over a wound on his shoulder. This completed the first part of the spell. By the mixing of their blood, there was now a passage for both their souls. Shutting her eyes, Jessie began to chant softly in Náhuatl:

"I summon thee Spirits of old

To hear my plea,

I call to thee to bring to me

The Powers to bind this man to me,

So that we might be

Forever entwined,

For now, and until all eternity."

                As she chanted, Jessie saw their connection glow with a bright crimson light. The glow brightened until the room was flooded red. "For now, and until all eternity," she intoned, watching two balls of light rise from the point of contact. A sudden blindness washed over her as the balls merged and separated once again to return to their vessels.

                The spell was complete. They were both now joined to each other for all eternity, unless the spell was undone willingly by one alive. Jessie removed her palm and inspected it. It had healed completely, leaving not even a scar. Now, they would always know of each other's whereabouts, and she would never lose him.

***

                Jessie stared at her palm blankly. She knew, she would never, could never lose him. He would find her, even if she kept on running. She had brought it upon herself… 

To be continued…

Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com


	3. Chapter 3: Bond

From                       : Chihuahua

Date                        : 18th March 2003

Disclaimer              : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category                : A, JJ-HR, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating                    : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note       : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

CHAPTER 3: BOND 

            Jonny approached the abandoned shack stealthily. It had been two nights since his last patrol, and his injuries were completely healed. His jaw set with determination, he clutched his spear tightly. The steady weight of a scimitar rested securely across a shoulder, while several sharpened stakes were stashed in his boots and in his belt for easy access.

                The grim darkness ahead loomed closer as he crept along the perimeter. He sensed the vampire even before he saw it. Thankfully, he saw it before it had seen him, and with a well-aimed strike, the vamp was dusted, its head turning to dust a second after its body as Jonny's scimitar swished silently in a perfect arch. A grim smile stretched on his face as he proceeded.

                The night was eerily silent, as if the place was devoid of any living creature. His acute hearing couldn't even pick up the scamper of mice. There weren't even the chirping of crickets and cicadas. There was absolutely nothing but quiet. It was as if everything had learnt to fear the dark presence that haunted the darkness. Jonny could practically smell the pungent odour of evil permeating through the mist. It was however easier to just follow the rotten stench of decay in steady progress.

                His boots crunched softly as he took yet another step towards the shack. He cringed at each sound he made although he knew that it couldn't be helped, as the ground here was gravel and stones. His entire body tingled with the anticipation of the fight to come, and he repositioned the spear once again in his hands. He realised that the stainless steel head was only good for injuring vampires, not killing them. However, if the spear was shoved deeply enough, the wooden handle would penetrate the dead heart beneath and do the job. 

                Jonny wanted revenge. Plain and simple. He just wanted to destroy the vampires who had humiliated him a couple of nights ago. He prided himself for being able to destroy any vampire, and these vampires had defeated him. They had launched their minions at him, and left, cackling into the night. There must have probably been more than a dozen vamps. He had been ill prepared, armed with only a couple of stakes. Not tonight however, he was prepared for the worst. He even wore a small vial of holy water around his neck.

                While in recovery, Jonny had mapped out several possible places that might serve as a hideout for the vampires. He had come up with about five highly possible sites. The old shack had been third on his list, the previous two were already staked out. As he neared the shack, his instincts told him that he had found the right spot.

                Suddenly, they were all upon him, snarling and salivating all over themselves. The attack was sudden, but not enough to give them the upper hand. In a second, the spear had found itself embedded in the skull of a female vampire. As she shrieked in agony, Jonny whipped out his scimitar and lobbed off the head of a stocky male who tried to attack him from the rear. Using clean sweeps of the ornate sword, he hacked his way through the crowd.

                Jonny grunted as a huge male slammed him onto the ground. Its eyes glowed feral yellow as it leaned down to repeat the feat. Jonny cursed loudly, there were more tonight then in the last battle. 

                "I take a couple of nights off, and those two just go out there and do the Pied Piper!" he exclaimed, rolling out of the way as a huge foot landed where his head had been a moment ago. Using his upper boy strength, Jonny pushed himself into a handstand and dropped his legs around the vampire's neck, before giving it a vicious twist. Using the momentum generated, he flipped back onto his feet, a stake in his hand. 

                "Is it just me, or are you people ignorant of the fact that dental hygiene has developed over the years?" he taunted a vamp, before driving the stake home. Sensing a rear attack, he bent his knees slightly, before launching himself into a massive back flip. He plunged the stake with deadly precision as he landed, his boots kicking up the freshly settled dust as he landed. He reached out and collected his spear before it fell. "At least you're out of your misery," he retorted.

                The huge male with the broken neck lumbered clumsily up to him. Jonny decked him several powerful punches, finishing his attack with a shattering kick to his patella and a quick stab through his heart. He barely made it out of the way when his scimitar came swishing past his head. 

                "I believe that's mine!" he yelled, dodging yet another swipe from the deadly blade, and countering with a perfect roundhouse, followed by a quick snap kick. His sword landed near his feet. Using his spear, Jonny flicked the scimitar upwards, and caught the carved handle. With a quick flick of his wrist, another vamp lost its head and one more was reduced to dust as his stake found its target.

                Jonny was exhilarated. Adrenaline coursed rapidly through him, his skill using the added burst of energy and strength to his advantage.

                And suddenly, the fight was over. The vampires simply seemed to back away, their bodies still tensed in caution.

                Then he heard it, clapping.

                Enraged, Jonny spun around, scimitar perfectly poised for another vicious attack. And then, his body sagged. 

                Icy cold fear washed over him as he witnessed his worst nightmare in slow motion reality.

                The laughing vampire grinned sardonically at him, a female by his side. And in between them, stood Jessie, struggling valiantly to get away.

                "Look who came to join the fun, Slayer!" the male hissed. His face was a striking resemblance to Jonny's. In fact, they were nearly identical. He had chosen not to vamp out, giving Jonny the full benefit of seeing his face for the first time. "It was rude of you to run away just like that, the other night," he taunted, his smile widening as Jessie struggled even harder to free herself.

                "You ran away. I just wasn't interested in the company you left me with," Jonny said, hoping to sound nonchalant.

                The vampire was silent, but he tightened his iron grip on Jessie, causing her to wince slightly from the immense pressure placed upon her arm.

                Jonny's heart froze. He didn't dare move in case the loony would hurt her. His fingers clenched the wooden stake in his hand hard, the splintery surface digging hard into his palm. He hoped that they couldn't sense his fear, but he knew enough otherwise.

                "Let her go," he tried negotiating, keeping his voice as level as possible. He was still very aware of the salivating vampires all around him, and he had to suppress the urge to strike out brutally.

                The vampire shook his head mockingly. "Let's talk first shall we. Then we make the bargains."

                Jonny took a deep breath, and then sheathed his stake in its usual place. He felt unarmed, but not defenceless. "Okay, let's talk." He relaxed his pose, so as to not intimidate his foe, although anyone who knew him well enough would know that he had trained enough to leap into the offensive in a flash.

                The vampire who still held Jessie captive smiled, and waved his hand, signalling his minions to retreat, at least temporarily. "Brave you are, young Slayer," he mussed, his tone not hiding the amusement he found in torturing Jonny. "But also foolish."

                Jonny gritted his teeth in silence, wishing that he could wipe that smirk of the vamp's face. But he kept his cool, focusing on analysing the situation. He realised that he had totally overlooked the fact that he was dealing with a foreign vampire, as his accent gave him away. It wasn't heavy, but it was evident enough to be noted.

                "Cut to the chase. You know what I want, state your claims!" 

                The vampire tsk-tsked in that maddening fashion of his, as if taunting Jonny. "Impulsive aren't you?"

                Jonny refrained from coming back with a cutting remark.

                "Since you're so inept at starting up conversations, I'll start," the vampire said. He flicked a glance over to his companion, who had been idly checking her nails. "Fun isn't this, love?" he asked, and grinned when he saw her mischievous nod.

                He turned abruptly and looked straight at Jonny, stilling him right way with a piercing gaze. "She means a lot to you doesn't she?" he asked, ticking his gaze at Jessie. He smiled as he saw the Slayer squirm involuntarily. "The strong and silent type, huh?" he commented, squeezing Jessie's arm violently when Jonny did not respond. The girl's pained gasp brought the desired effect.

                "Please, let her go." Jonny realised that he was pleading, but he didn't care. His pride was the least of his worries right now. In fact, it wasn't even on his mind. 

                "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

                "Go to Hell!" Jessie suddenly said, her voice even. Before the surprised vampire could react, she slammed her head backwards; smashing what she hoped was his nose. As she felt his grasp give a little, she wrenched her wrists free, and in one fluid motion, whirled around, driving her knee hard into his abdomen.

                "Fight!" That single word released Jonny from his stillness. The scimitar swished in broad deadly arcs, dismembering, decapitating foes as it whooshed from side to side in well-trained swings. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Jessie once again in the grasp of a vampire, this time it was the trampy female. Flipping out of the way of a rear attack, Jonny drove his stake into the hear of another, before delivering a stunning aerial crescent kick to the one which had attacked him, and lobbed of her head with a single clean sweep of the ornate sword.

                A cry of anguish echoed in the night when he saw Jessie struggling under the fangs of the vampires. Without a second thought, he threw the stationary spear on the ground at the last of the vampires before dashing towards the feasting vampires. His fury clouded his mind, as tears blinded him. 

                When he finally arrived, all that was left was Jessie's still corpse. Her throat had been ravaged, torn at both sides. He dropped the scimitar as he fell to his knees and felt desperately for a pulse. There was none. 

                A quick shuffle to his left caused him to look up, a fraction of a second before receiving a hard kick to his face. As he rolled over, reeling, another kick landed in his midsection, before a foot was placed firmly on his neck, pressing his face into the dirt. Pebbles cut into his cheek, but he felt nothing but the rage that coursed through him.

                "Don't cry, little boy," a sultry voice cooed. "Your lovely baby will be back soon enough, better than new." The foot on his neck eased up, just enough to allow him a slight glimpse of the trampy vamp standing above him. She was showing him her slashed wrist.

                Realisation hit Jonny, just as the foot ground his face into the hard earth again. "No…" his whisper was so soft that he could barely hear himself.

                "Oh, she put up a good fight. Gave my baby a shiner too," the smooth masculine voice of the male vampire said. "She was strong."

                "And fiery. I could taste that feisty South American flavour in her blood," the female said.

                "Right then, love. Anyway, you might as well stake your bitch right now, Junior. Either that or you could wait for her to rise again." The foot eased up again, but this time a hard kick to his head knocked Jonny out cold. 

                When he finally came to, they were gone. Jessie still lay beside him. Picking himself up, Jonny lifted the girl's still form. Then, he stumbled numbly back home, tears pouring down his cheek. She felt so cold. Her luxurious red mane now hung lifelessly, brushing his arm every time it swayed as he stumbled home.

                "I swear I'll get them, Jessie. I swear it!" he whispered to her. "I won't stop hunting them until they're ashes in the wind!"

***

                Jonny bolted upright. His surroundings were still slightly alien to his still sleepy mind, but slowly, it all began to come back to him. The dream had been so real… vivid. He could still see every detail as if he were reliving the entire experience. He wiped his damp forehead and quietly pulled himself to his feet. 

                "Jessie…" his voice trailed off. She was close, he just knew it. By some weird twist of fate, or something else, he now felt a psychic connection with her. Maybe it was the guilt, the guilt he felt for letting her die. If he had been faster, swifter… Oh yes, the guilt was strong.

                Jonny straightened his T-shirt, before deciding to take an early shower. He pulled the shirt off and tossed it onto his duffel.

                The shower was cold, but he didn't mind. It was a welcome distraction to the nightmare. Jonny glanced at his watch, the brilliant blue crystal display reading five in the morning. He stopped the shower, towelled off and pulled on a black cashmere turtleneck sweater and black baggy jeans. A stake and its spare went into the usual storage spaces. The morning was cold, so he threw on his jacket, although it also served the dual purpose of concealing the stake he had tucked into his waistband.

                Jonny headed for the wharf, breathing in the heavy salt-saturated air. The wharf was already bustling with activity, with the fishermen bringing in the catch. He perched himself on a desolate spot, and watched the sunrise. And then he saw her.

                Or at least he saw a flash of red, like the hair of a person streaming behind as she ran. But it was only a flash, no one could move that fast. It's her, Jonny decided. Next time, Jessie, next time… The rising sun turned the sky a myriad of hues, and for one fleeting moment, the sky was the colour of her hair. 

                Maybe the sunrise wasn't such a good idea after all, Jonny decided. Everything still reminded him of her. The soft fragrance of fruits reminded him of her hair, how it almost always smelt that way. The heady scents of spicy ginger and cinnamon was vaguely reminiscent of her perfume. Even the salty air reminded him of the nights they spent wrapped in each other's arms, watching the stars. Now, even the colour of the sky reminded him of her hair.

                He would find her… he had sworn to never stop until her body was rid of the demon inhabiting it. And then he would kick that vampire's ass all over the place, and if it were possible, he would separate the affected accent from the vamp before tearing off his head. He and that tramp of his.

***

                "What are you thinking about?" Benton asked suddenly, startling Hadji who had been staring blankly out of the window for nearly ten minutes.

                Hadji recomposed himself before answering. "The same as usual. Where's he? What's he doing? When'll he be home?" He drew a deep breath. I've tried to reach him." When he saw his father's confused expression, he continued, "On the astral plain. I could sometimes do that; connect with him. Understand his feelings. Share his pain. But always only when he allowed me to."

                Benton smiled encouragingly. "No luck, I guess."

                Hadji shook his head resignedly. "He's blocking me out."

                "I don't think so, Hadji. He wouldn't…"

                "He would if he didn't want me to know what's on his mind."

                "Maybe it's the distance?"

                Hadji shook his head again. "There's a difference. I can see him, and then he throws me out."

                Benton could see that this disturbed Hadji a lot. And he didn't blame Hadji for being concerned or hurt. The two boys had always been close, even after Jessie's arrival. After that, Jessie had taken over connecting with Jonny. However the bond between the boys had never wavered.

                With a final reassuring pat on the shoulder, Benton left the room, in search for Race. The other man had taken to being withdrawn, no doubt still grieving for his daughter's untimely death. Benton couldn't help feeling slightly drained from his daily task of comforting and reassuring Hadji and Race. He was beginning to understand what an emotional sponge he must have been when Race had first arrived, and for the first time he pitied the man who he once deemed immortal. In a perverse manner, it was disturbing for him to see Race in this state, but how else would a man who had lost his only child react?

                He didn't need to search the house for Race. He knew exactly where he was. With long even strides, Benton approached Jessie's room, the room she had lived in. He could hear the muffled shuffling. 

                "Race?" He peeked into the room.

                "How long has it been, Benton?" Race's soft question hit Benton in the gut, hard. "How long has it been since she…"

                "Nine days," he replied, hoping to mask some of the emotions he felt. It wouldn't do to have three emotional wrecks under the same roof.

                Race let out a tight laugh. "Felt like just last night that she told me she was going out."

                "I know."

                Race suddenly spun around so fast that Benton jerked backwards. "Know? You don't know anything. Not half of it, old man!" he bit off bitterly.

                Benton was silent. This was still new territory to him, he still wasn't sure what was safe ground and what was thin ice. No sooner had he found a new firm foothold did a whole new set emerge.

                "What do you mean?" he coaxed gently, deciding that it would be better for all if Race got it off his chest, even if it meant a lot of yelling.

                Race looked shame-faced for a second, and then he turned away. "Just forget it."

                "No, I will not just forget it. Tell me exactly what you meant when you said that I didn't understand at all!" Benton strained to smother his temper.

                "It's nothing that concerns you."

                Benton felt himself losing hold of his temper. "What do you mean it's not my business? What's not my business? Jessie dying at the fangs of a vampire? Jonny's fate being a Slayer? What's not my business, God damn it? What the hell isn't my business?" he flared, glowering at Race, his hands clenched so tightly that they felt alien to him.

                Race looked at him, his face incredulous. "You knew?"

                Benton let out a bitter laugh, before he bit it off sharply. "How stupid do you think I am, Race?"

                "When… How…?"

                "When I knew about Jonny's destiny? Before he was born, I just failed to acknowledge it till much later. How? It's always been a part of the family prophesies. He was fated to be the Slayer, he is the Slayer. It's his sole birthright."

                "Then, you knew about Jessie and I?"

                Benton sighed resignedly. "If you meant I knew that you were a Watcher, sent to watch Jonny's progress yes. I also knew that Jessie was your protégé."

                Race snickered. "I-1 isn't gonna be pleased. You may be the father of the Slayer, but to them, you're still a civilian."

                Benton rolled his eyes. "He doesn't know, does he?"

                "He knows. I didn't realize till after her death. He has been slaying for some time now. Jessie kept a journal, she made an entry every night on how successful he had been, a complete assessment of his skills." Race paused. "He has progressed steadily without my knowledge."

                "Then Jessie has been serving as his Watcher, not you."

                Race simply nodded. "She had been trained by several others other than myself before coming here. We were sent to monitor and guard Jonny, in case he did turn out to be the Slayer."

                "There were other candidates?"

                "There's another kid in London. He was also monitored."

                "So when did you realize that you had the right kid?"

                Race snickered. "You remember that incident with the holographic images. Jonny was my handicap, but he ended up kicking my butt with his instincts. The kid was quicker than a starved coyote at the sight of a roadrunner."

                Benton's face fell. "All those years we hid this from one another…"

                "You could simply have asked me," Hadji's voice said smoothly.

                Both Race and Benton whirled around. "You knew?"

                "I sensed it."

                All three laughed, the first sound of laughter they had all heard in the past week and a half. 

                "What do we do now?" Hadji was the first to cease his laughing.

                "We wait. We wait for him to come home." Benton's voice was grim. "He can no longer fight his destiny."

To be continued…

Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com


	4. Chapter 4: Alliance

From                       : Chihuahua

Date                        : 23rd March 2003

Disclaimer                : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category                : A, JJ-HR, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating                    : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note                : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

CHAPTER 4: ALLIANCE 

                "Find your centre, Jonny." Hadji's clear voice reverberated in his mind. "Focus on the central energy."

                Jonny breathed deeply, recalling Hadji's teachings on meditation. The fragrant air of the flowers blooming in the Golden Gate Park calmed him. The park was still silent except for the occasional call of the multiple bird species that dwelt in the majestic area.

                He now sat in the middle of the Japanese tea garden, which had been closed temporarily for minor repairs. His turtleneck and jacket lay beside him as he tried yet another attempt to reach Jessie. His breathing slowed as felt himself fading from the present world. His senses relaxed, seemingly dulled as the sounds about him were slowly blocked out, slowing down at first before fading out. As his breathing continued to slow down to a constant pace, Jonny's mind floated away, seeking.

                Clouds of mist surrounded him, swirling and billowing with his every step. He looked around, but there was nothing around him. Just mist. It was as though he was walking through a huge void of nothingness. Jonny continued walking, searching for her. He knew she was close, but where?

                The mists seemed to shift, taking on a myriad of forms before blowing away. And then, he was bathed in light. Dazzling golden light, so bright that it would have blinded anyone who looked into it. But he looked through it at ease, seeing the wonders it concealed behind its majesty.

                He was suddenly aware that he was waist-high in cool water. Beautiful lilies and lily pads floated all around him, bobbing gently with his movements. An occasional lotus bloomed over the tranquil green water, its petal spilling over. A few pink petals floated by him as he waded towards a nearby bank.

                Jonny pulled his lithe body out of the water, and was instantly aware of his undressed state. Almost as if someone had read his mind, a set of fine robes had been set on the soft grass. An ornate sword lay by them, as did a pair of finely crafted sandals of the finest suede.

                Jonny pulled on the intricately embroidered silk kimono shirt and matching drawstring pants. The silk seemed to glow, a silver sheen over the soft blue. He strapped on the sword and slipped into the sandals. His surroundings seemed vaguely familiar to him, a place out of a distant memory that had been cloaked with an air of surrealism. 

                Suddenly, there was a soft flutter about him. Jonny drew his sword and slashed, as the first plum blossom landed on him. A rain of them seemed to flutter down from the exquisite tree. Feeling foolish, he sheathed the sword and studied his surroundings.

                It was a Chinese-style garden, complete with resplendent blossoming trees and a wide lake. A multitude of coloured blooms flourished all over the place. A small company of peacocks roosted on a low tree, their magnificent plumes cascading down the branches. Their brilliant blue plumage was a lovely shade of aquamarine in the silvery light.

                And then, he saw her. She was clothed in a loose-fitting robe of pale orange, with golden dragons intricately embroidered and beaded on. Her long hair was piled high on her head in a dramatic style, held in place with jewelled sticks of ivory. Her skin was deathly pale, a painful reminder that she was a vampire.

                For a second, they stared at each other, seeing each other eye to eye for the first time since she was changed. Vampire and Slayer.

                "You found me," her voice was quiet, almost serene.

                "You let me," he deadpanned. 

                "You remember this place?" she asked, her hands making a vague arc.

                He suddenly realised that he did. "Yeah. Our first kiss… our first real one. No ghosts involved."

                She smiled, almost a grin. "We were there," she said, pointing to a small shelter in the middle of the pond that was connected to land by a narrow bridge. The Chinese style roof extended like the curved horns of a dragon.

                "How did you…?"

                "How did I do this?" she asked expectantly. "Recreate all this?"

                Jonny nodded.

                "I didn't." Seeing his puzzled expression, she added, "We did. This place was special. It still is."

                There was an ample moment of silence as they gazed at each other; the longing for each other was intense.

                "Why did you come, Jonny?" Her emerald eyes were unwavering. 

                Jonny shrugged. "I needed to talk… or something. I dunno… I just needed to. Wanted to."

                She edged closer. She stopped when Jonny drew back slightly, hands moving to the hilt of the sword. "I won't attack… not yet."

                Jonny nodded. He stepped forward this time. And lunged at her.

                Jessie moved into a defensive stance just as his arms embraced her, his lips locking onto hers. His kisses were rapturous, needy. Jessie didn't hesitate to return his passion, her hands caressing the back of his head, toying gently with his soft hair.

                He felt so warm against her. She could smell his fresh scent, feel his hair, and taste his kisses. For a fleeting moment, she knew that it was wrong, but it was gone in an instant. This was what she had wanted for so long. Who cared if it was real… she had him, and he still loved her even though… Jessie paused, pulling back a bit. She was a vampire, the one thing he was sworn to destroy.

                "What is it?" his voice was slightly hoarse, as he whispered in her ear. She had always loved it when he did that.

                "Nothing. Nothing at all." She gazed into his eyes, drowning in their depth. "I want you…" her raspy whisper barely audible.

                He smiled, and resumed kissing her. He became more passionate as she traced her fingers across his partially exposed chest. Her hands shifted to his sash, tugging slightly impatiently at it, loosening it quickly.

                Jonny pulled back slightly. "Out here?"

                "There's no one else around."

                He grinned. "Even if there was, let them watch and learn."

                She smiled and slid the kimono shirt off. 

                "You're still you," a gentle whisper broke the silence.

                She shifted slightly to face him, barely aware that he was still stroking her gently.

                "You're still you," he repeated, his blue eyes boring deep into her. "How is that possible?"

                "How would you know?"

                "I can still sense you. And I felt you. You've still got a soul."

                She nodded sadly. "My soul is bound to this body," she said wistfully, "much to the demon's dislike."

                "But how?"

                "Promise me you won't get mad," she pleaded.

                "I promise." Just to reassure her, he kissed her tenderly on her neck.

                She drew in a breath, more out of habit than necessity. "I bound myself to you."

                "WHAT?" She could feel his body shift violently as he bolted upright to look directly at her.

                "You promised," she reminded.

                "I promised I wouldn't get mad, but that was before I knew you had lost it!"

                "Stop yelling!"

                "Why'd you do it?" he demanded.

                "Because I loved you, you bloody bastard!" she spat back. "I still do."

                His expression softened immediately. "Still… you never should have."

                "I know… but I wasn't thinking straight… but if I had to do it over, I'll do it again." Her eyes were defiant, as if daring him to patronise her. Instead, he leaned forward to kiss her. He grinned when he felt her stirring him again.

                "You're insatiable tonight, aren't you?"

                Jonny's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment he had no idea where he was. 

                The Japanese Tea Garden, he realised. He unfolded his legs and stood up slowly, shaking his head slightly to clear the fog. How long had it been? He wondered. The sky was darkening outside, past twilight. The temperature had definitely dipped again.

                Jonny slipped his sweater back on and threw on his jacket. He had to get back to the motel. Firstly because Buffy would probably be wondering where he had been all day. Secondly, he needed a shower, a cold one.

                Her last words to him before he had left their "place" still echoed in his mind.

                "Go home, Jonny. You can't beat him. You can't beat the demon in me. Just leave."

                For the first time in a while, Jonny realised he needed his father's help. He slipped out of the park and headed for the nearest pay phone and made his call home.

***

                The shrill ring of the telephone was greeted with a stunned silence.

                "Jonny!" the unmistakable sound of hope was evident in Benton's voice as he lunged for the nearest telephone.

                "Hello, Jonny?"

                "Hey, Pops." The voice was rather subdued.

                "Where the Hell are you? What on Earth do you think you're doing?" Why…?"

                "I need your help," Jonny interrupted.

                "Like Hell you do! You need to get back here, that's what you need!"

                "Look, either you help me, or you pass the phone to someone else who will. I'm running out of change here, and it _is _important!"

                Benton sighed resignedly. "What is it?"

                "I need you to look up a unbinding spell."

                "A what?"

                "Unbinding spell. A particular one. I need a spell that dispossess the body of a soul. Can you look it up for me?"

                Benton looked expectantly at Race. "Do you have any idea where to find an unbinding spell?" Receiving a nod in reply, he replied, "Okay, son. But what is it for?"

                "Jessie…"

                "Why…?"

                "Look, I'm running low on change now… I'll call back in a few hours for the spell. Thanks Pop."

                The line went dead.

                Benton idly replaced the receiver. His body seemed to sag and all of a sudden, he appeared a lot more drawn than he normally did.

                Hadji cleared his throat. "I think we should look up that unbinding spell now."

                Benton nodded. "You're right, of course." He lead the way to the library, Race and Hadji in tow.

                "What do you expect to find in the library anyway, Benton? I could call I-1 now and get the spell the kid wants."

                "I have it here… somewhere."

                "We're wasting time. We could just call and…"

                "And what Race? Let them know that your daughter, a Watcher-in-training is a vampire running amok and that the spell you want is to quell her? Is that what you want?"

                The silence was thick.

"Dr. Quest is right. We do not want to stir up any more trouble than we can manage." Hadji's voice was a soothing elixir to Benton's frazzled nerves. "We'll do it all one step at a time, look for the spell here, and if and if we cannot obtain it, we'll call the I-1."

Race still looked shaken. "Jessie's a vampire?"

Benton nodded. "I'm sorry."

"But why would Jonny need a unbinding spell then?"

"He specified a spell to dispossess a body of its soul."

"He wouldn't need it! A vampire has no soul… the soul's replaced by a demon!"

"I don't know."

"Why not just trust Jonny's instincts? We all know that he wouldn't hurt Jessie if he could help it, so let's just give him what he wants." Hadji had placed himself bodily in between the two older men, sensing that a wrong move on any of their behalf's could be the breaking point.

"Even if she were a vampire?"

"Race, don't you get it? He loved her. Judging from his request, he probably still does, vampire or otherwise. Now instead of standing here bickering, can the two of you middle-aged assholes just help me?" Hadji screamed, storming off through the doorway.

Benton and Race were left dumbfounded. "Did he just call us old?" Race asked.

"More of middle-aged, but that would be correct."

"He's right you know."

"But we haven't lived past our expiry dates yet."

"No siree."

They stepped into the library. Hadji was waiting for them, arms crossed over his chest, a vaguely defiant look on his face. "I would have started the search, but I do not know where to start." His dark eyes flashed.

"This way." Benton lead them down several aisles of tall bookcases, each filled from top to bottom. Some of the books were old and yellowing, others were recent bestsellers. He stopped at a shelf hidden from open view. The shelf was hidden in a dark alcove, making it virtually invisible from any other place in the library. "Grab one each."

Hadji took a delicate looking sheaf of yellowing papyrus sheets whilst Race gently took a book of pagan witchcraft. Benton pulled a dark journal from its place, and took another book of the shelf and joined the others at the large mahogany table in the middle of the room.

"Witchcraft For Dummies?" Race asked incredulously, pointing at a thin volume in Benton's hands.

"Just in case we need help translating some of the actions. Or for other things."

"When did the kid say he was calling back?"

"He didn't specify… he just said in a few hours."

"How many of these old books do you have back there?"

"Over a hundred journals and several antique volumes regarding demonology and the sort."

"Since when did you start believing in demonology anyway?" Hadji asked, looking up from his scrolls for a moment.

Benton sighed. "You know how often we have encountered werewolves and even a succubus. I decided that there was more to the world than simply just science, and began to believe some of the things I had been told, including that Jonny was fated to be a Slayer."

"He'll be okay, Benton. That's some boy you've got… and last I checked, his expiry date isn't even close."

"Speaking of expiry dates, about my earlier comment on your age…"

"Whatever, Hadj… but you be watching your back. There's still a lot of snap left in these old vines." Race grinned, flexing his muscular arms.

***

                "Where the Hell do you think you're going, Pretty Boy?"

                "Buffy. Heading back to take a shower."

                "Like Hell you are. Patrolling tonight, it's a good time for Slayers to like, you know, bond." She cocked her head to her left, her eyes boring deep into him.

                "I just feel kinda… dirty right now you know," he said lamely.

                She stepped forward, her poise menacing, backing him up into a wall. Then, she leaned forward and sniffed. "You smell okay, kinda musky. But it's nothing that should keep you from Slaying. Now walk!" she barked.  
                Jonny obeyed. "So where we headed?" 

                "The wharf. Then around. You up for it?"

                "Like I have a choice."

                "You're right, you don't."

                "Why do we have to do this bonding thing anyway?" Jonny asked, his hand repositioning his stake at his belt.

                "Because, like it or not, we're unofficial partners for now, until we at least figure out why another Slayer was called," she answered curtly.

                "Couldn't we like bond over pizza and ice-cream? Isn't that what you all do for girl-talk?"

                "First of, girl-talk over pizza and ice-cream is what you see on TV. The real world, girl-talk happens anywhere." She let out a small laugh. "And for that matter, wouldn't it be better if we just bonded over sex?"

                Jonny swallowed hard. "Still kinda in  my last relationship."

                "Oh really?" she said, her eyes glinting mischievously.

                "Yeah."

                She feigned shock. "Teenage guys like you exist? Geez, tell your girl that she'll be a real stupid chick to let you go."

                "I can't. She's dead."

                "Oh, I'm sorry," she mumbled, and  she meant it.

                He nodded. "It's okay."

                "So the vamps you're hunting, they her killers?"

                "Yeah."

                "So you abandoned your life for a vigilante mission?"

                "Don't give me that!" he spat.

                Buffy looked surprised and stepped back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

                "Yeah well you did. It's my personal shit, so stay out of it. Comprande?"

                "Si, senor," she said. "Sorry."

                He didn't seem to hear her as he ran forward into the fog. There was a grunt, and then a loud burst. "We're surrounded!"

                Buffy had already launched herself into full attack mode, thrashing the vampires left, right and centre. That still left her back vulnerable. "Jonny, a little help back here!"

                "Stay still, bitch!" a seedy looking vamp said, leering at her. His feral yellow eyes were a brilliant amber and he appeared almost rabid.

                "Or you'll what? Bite me?" Buffy taunted, slamming her palm into his chin, forcing his jaw shut with a resounding clack of bone. She followed up with two punches straight into his face before slamming her stake home. She whirred around when she heard a loud thump, and saw that Jonny had floored two vampires and in a heartbeat has dusted the first just a fraction of a second before kicking the second fallen one viciously in the ribs.

                Buffy almost felt sorry for her, she was probably slightly older than fourteen but that did not seem to restrict the other Slayer's punches. One moment she was snarling viciously, the next she was a pile of dust.

                Suddenly, a shadow threw itself on Buffy, knocking her down. Reacting on instinct, Buffy rolled aside and in a quick motion flipped herself back onto her feet, perfectly poised to take down her assailant. Her foe had likely done the same, as her dark silhouette showed off her fighter stance.

                "Left your fangs at home?" Buffy sneered, lunging in with a quick high kick and following up with a knee strike and then an elbow strike. Her assailant parried the first blow, and ducked the next two.

                Her assailant smirked cockily, before lashing out with her left leg. Her long leg made a graceful arch, just barely missing its target as Buffy stepped it and slammed a hard right into her ribs. Her triumph was short lived as the tall willowy figure hit back with a well-trained backhand. A hard uppercut threw Buffy back several feet.

                "That all you've got, little girl?" the lanky figure taunted, her exquisite face breaking into a condescending smile. 

                Buffy smiled back. She jumped in for attack, taking the offensive easily. A quick jab to the right was followed by a blinding fast roundhouse that knocked the vampire back several feet. She threw herself into a cartwheel, her boots catching the girl in the site of her head.

                However, she wasn't ready for the tall vampire's own series of offensives, taking a hard uppercut to her jaw, and three lightning fast punches to the ribs and a hard drop kick. Buffy wheezed slightly, but was prepared to fight back. She jumped up, stake in hand and lunged forward.

                A black figure hurtled forward, slamming her out of the way before the stake came close to the vampire.

                "Run, Jessie! Get out of here! GO!"

                "There was a moment hesitation, and then she was gone, melting into the shadows.

                Buffy picked herself up, glaring. She strode over to Jonny and punched him hard in the face.

                "What the Hell is wrong with you?" she demanded. "Why did you let her get away?"

                "That was Jessie." Jonny rubbed gingerly at his cheekbone, where the punch had landed.

                "I gathered that much. So you name your vamps…"

                "She's my girlfriend," he said, his voice a quiet whisper.

                "I thought your girlfriend was dead… oh. So you meant un-dead."

                Jonny nodded. "I'm hunting her sire, and I guess in the process her."

                "That explains who she is, but still, why the heck did you let her go?"

                "Because it wasn't time yet."

                "Huh?" Buffy was torn between her exasperation and confusion. "What are you, a ritualistic Slayer? 'Coz it sure didn't look like it back there when you were thrashing the others." 

                "She still has her soul."

                "How?"

                "Long story… point is, I want to release her first, before dusting her shell," he choked out, his voice cracking.

                "You're letting your feelings get in the way!"

                "Look, you said that we're partners. So trust me on this will ya? Just trust me!" A loud sob escaped his lips. "I owe it to her…" he trailed off.

                Buffy gazed into his teary blue eyes, and for the first time saw the hurt there. Even more, she saw his vulnerability and pain.

                "Trust me, please."

                She sighed softly. "I trust you. But if she endangers anyone…"

                "She's yours then," Jonny finished. "Thank you."

                "Partners?" she said, holding out a stake.

                "Partners," he affirmed, crossing his stake with hers.

To be continued…

Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com


	5. Chapter 5: Mind Games

From                       : Chihuahua

Date                        : 30th March 2003

Disclaimer              : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category                : A, JJ-HR, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating                    : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note       : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

CHAPTER 5: MIND GAMES 

            "I see that the boy is still enamoured with you," mused the dark imposing figure, a smile spreading on his pale face. "It's an advantage… a rare one indeed."

                Jessie remained silent, not wanting to anger her lord, and yet feeling a sense of deep guilt.

                Her silence piqued his interest. "Your soul makes you weak, vulnerable to the boy's charms," he spat, rage flickering in his eyes.

                "I will not fail you," Jessie insisted, her temper beginning to fray. Daerian's suspicion and doubts were beginning to annoy her immensely.

                "Your soul might!"

                "I control my soul!" She received a grunt in response. "Why are you so nervous?" she asked, her eyebrow arched.

                "Nervous? Why would I be nervous?" came his typical response.   
                Why couldn't he just answer a simple question? Why did he always have to answer with another question?

                "You tell me," Jessie said artfully.

                There was a sudden blur, and Jessie suddenly felt herself flying backwards. Her back slammed hard against a hard surface, a wall. She gazed now into his feral amber eyes, eyes of a killer.

                "Don't play games with me, little girl," he spat now, his accent a little more distinct than it usually was.

                "I'm not playing anything!" Jessie hissed back, choking slightly, not because she needed air, but because his vice-like grip was squeezing her windpipe, making it hard for her to speak.

                His grip did not loosen. His features lost their demonic appearance, which he loathed to show but his strength did not ebb away.

                "Darlin', let her go," cooed a velvety voice, its coquettish tone unmistakeable. "She may yet prove useful." Prumiva flashed Jessie a toothy smile, her lips drawn back to expose her ivory fangs. 'Wouldn't you, dearie?"

                His fingers relaxed, and Jessie slipped down, her hands testing her tender throat. 

                "We'll be keeping an eye on you, dear," Prumiva said, her slender hands luring Daerian along to their chambers. 

                "Nothing new there," Jessie muttered. She peered out of a barred window. The sun was just beginning to rise, its first bright rays caressing the horizon.

                "Till next time, Jonny." She was adamant.

***

                The mists cleared, revealing their concealed wonders. It was all different this time. There was no Oriental garden, no bright sun. There wasn't even the sweet scent of blooming blossoms. 

                Twilight engulfed him, the rich dark velvet of the heavens emblazoned boldly with generous dustings of stars. Warm gentle waves washed over his bare legs and his feet felt the smooth pebbles under them. The air was tangy, saturated with the salty smell of the sea and the rich fragrance of ripening Mediterranean olives.

                "Isle of Mykonos?" Jonny asked, feeling the warm ocean breeze in his hair.

                "Another special memory," came the confirmation.

                "Our first time," he said fondly. He turned slowly to see her standing behind him, glorious as a nymph. 

                Her lustrous hair was tossed gently in the wind, her skin still a deathly ivory. 

                "Why is it that I can never remember you as you once were?" he asked. "As in when you were alive?"

                "This isn't a memory. The setting may be, but this is our bond."

                "So I can't just dream you up in anything I want?"

                "No. I'm dead, Jonny, you'll have to deal with it."

                She waded closer to him, the bright wrap she had fastened seductively around her waist floating about her as she ventured into deeper waters.

                "You look almost exactly as I remembered you," she whispered, taking in his lean frame. "You're even wearing the same shorts." She looked at his black surfer shorts with the purple tribal motives.

                He laughed softly. "You look different. Paler."

                They were kissing now, the clear water rippling around them. 

                "Why are you doing this?" she breathed. "Why are you following me?"

                "Because I love you."

                "Then set me free."

                "I will."

                "Then go away. Leave!" she said, stepping aside. 

                "Not yet. Not until we're finished," he said, his obstinate streak returning.

                She laughed bitterly. "Are you blind?" she demanded. "We are finished! I died! That's about as finished as it can get!"

                "Your soul is still here."

                "My soul's here. Trapped in this!" She morphed, her face turning feral. "Is this what you wanted? To see me like this?"

                "I'll free you!" he yelled.

                "How?" she yelled back, but he was gone. The link was severed.

***

                "You always fall for evil chicks?" Buffy's voice greeted him as he returned from his spiritual conference.

                "I thought you were in the shower," he said, worried about how much she may have seen.

                "Just came out. So, about my question…"

                "No, that would be my brother," Jonny replied, a crooked smile stretching on his face.

                "How evil?"

                "A daughter of a megalomaniac, a succubus, some crackheads and a nut who wanted to overthrow his kingdom by killing its heir." Jonny struck off each one with a finger.

                "His kingdom? What's he, like royalty or something?"

                "Pretty much. The sole heir to a country in India."

                "Does that make you some kinda Arabic sheikh or something?" Her interest was definitely piqued.

                Jonny shook his head. "Just a normal everyday guy," he said, in a somewhat rueful tone. "With Slayer credentials," he added. "I'd give it all up, just to…"

                "She really did a number on you, huh?"

                He simply nodded. "Enough about me, what about you. You running from your own demons too?"

                "I killed my boyfriend," she said, her tone blunt and abrupt.

                Jonny raised an eyebrow, his tone rather unsure. "You did what?"

                "I killed him. He was a vampire, he wanted to destroy humanity, so I had to kill him." Her tone was factual, devoid of any humanity.

                "But how…?"

                "He had a soul… he was cursed with it by some gypsies he dissed. He lost it when he experienced a moment of true happiness…" She trailed off, somewhat embarrassed.

                Jonny nodded in understanding. "Well, from one necrophile to another, welcome to the club." He smiled.

                "A what?"

                "It just means that we screw dead people," he quipped.

                Her face was a mask of scandalous rage, and then she laughed. "I guess we are twisted in a way."

                "Oh yeah! It's so perverse, let's never think of it this way again!"

                "Deal," she said, holding out a hand.

                "Deal," he affirmed, slapping her a high five.

                "I'm turning in. We're gonna need to get jobs to continue living here. I mean, it's not much, but it sure as Hell beats living on the streets." She jumped into bed, pulling up the covers.

                "Yeah." He curled up in his corner.

***

                Jessie was startled from her slumber by a cold touch on her neck. She recognised that icy touch anywhere and rolled over to face Daerian. His form was a shadowy darkness against the gloom of her cell. Even so, she could see his dark intense eyes and his dark hair that was perfectly coiffed.

                "What do you want?" she demanded, angered by her rude awakening.

                She could see his smile, a flash of white against the gloom. "You're a radiant one, aren't you?" he asked, moving closer to her. Close enough for her to smell his musky scent.

                "Yeah, I'm a real firecracker!" she shot back, ready to fend him off.

                "Why the resistance, my dear?" he coaxed.

                "One, because you're involved. Two, because I'm not interested!"

                His featured clouded over. Anger furrowed his brow. "Am I not your master?" he roared.

                "That you may be, but I'm not your slave! You don't own me!" Jessie spat back, her brazen poise accentuated by her flashing emerald eyes. 

                "It's that boy, isn't it? That Slayer-pup!" Daerian fumed, his chest heaving with his anger. "You still love him. Your heart is still his!"

                "My heart's my own. And he isn't a pup!"

                "Oh no, my mistake," Daerian said in mock regret. "He's a full-grown man, young but nevertheless a man."

                "At least he'll always be a better man than you ever were!" she snapped.

                Daerian's handsome features contorted with rage. "Am I not better than him? Am I not more powerful than he'll ever be? How is he better?" he raged.

                "He's him." Her answer was curt, but her words resounded deep into Daerian's mind. "And you'll never be him. You're nothing like him!"

                Daerian smiled a knowing smile, his eyes taunting her. "Oh, but I am him, in so many ways."

                Jessie stared incredulously at him. "How?" she enquired.

                "That's a tale for another night." He swept out of her cell, his jacket flapping.

                "Curious aren't you, dear?" That light fluttery voice echoed off the thick walls. As if borne of darkness, Prumiva stepped out of the shadows, her raven curls a bouncing mass. "How can my handsome brute compare to your pup?" Her smile contained that same knowing bravado as Daerian's.

                Jessie bit back her temper. She sensed the vampire's ageless wisdom and brutality. Even as she watched now, that porcelain mask of fragile beauty barely hid the underlying cruelty. She nodded. "Tell me."

                "Better yet, I'll show you," the sultry temptress said, pulling out a crystal vial of clear liquid. Her bangles jangled a little with her movements. "Drink it, and all will be shown."

                "What is it?" Jessie asked, reaching for the vial, but uncertain about the water-like substance that flowed freely inside.

                "A potent blend of herbs. It has a dulling effect on the nerves, and you will find it easier to lose yourself in the story."

                "You mean it pretty much acts like a tranquilliser with the kick of pot?" Jessie asked, still suspicious.

                "More or less. Now drink it."

                Jessie complied and downed the entire vial. The liquid burned her throat as if she had just swallowed a mouthful of flaming liquid. Jessie writhed for a second in agony, and then the pain disappeared. She felt a soothing sensation overtake her senses, lulling her off to sleep. Her vision blurred a little and all movement seemed to have a slow motion effect as Prumiva's movements slowed down into a hypnotic trance-like state.

***

455 DC, ASHQELON

                A rugged young man slid off the soft bed silently, his naked form catching the dim lights of the multiple candles of animal fat that were placed all around the room. He gazed once more at the luxury that surrounded him; the lavish Indian drapes that hung at the windows, the silk tapestries that hung from each wall, stretching from wall to ceiling. The bed he had lain on was laid down with soft linens and beautiful furs, littered with soft down pillows. It was a far cry from his stone bed.

                "Going so soon?" a voice brought him back to reality.

                "I fear that your master will soon be home," he replied artfully, nodding at the deepening shadows. He clutched his modest toga and slipped it on, cinching his belt at the waist.

                The woman nodded thoughtfully. "Yet again, I thank you for your services."

                "It was my pleasure, as I hoped it was yours, mistress," he replied hastily. He often felt uncomfortable when his clients studied him so closely, as the woman was as she took in his boyish features. He was just nineteen summers old, a strong youth with dark curly hair and deep-set brown eyes that melted many hearts. His skin was smooth and a deep tan all over, stretched over a sinewy body that was considered slender by many.

                She smiled languidly and nodded. "Eurythes will have your payment ready for you," she said, getting dressed herself. She had dismissed him, like the whore he was.

                He nodded and made his exit. He collected his small fee of money and set off for his next client. He made a quick detour to the place that he considered home. The baths was a recreational venue for many of the city's privileged men, as it provided them a place to relax and socialise among themselves. It was also a place where many sought the companionship of alien ladies.

                He glanced at the sign chiselled into the doorway of the baths, reading the familiar text for the millionth time in his life: 'Enter and Enjoy'. The Greek inscription had been the first thing he had learnt to read, taught by one of the bath's regulars, an elderly colonel who frequented his mother's quarters.

                As he had learnt from a very early stage, the baths were not simply a place of relaxation, they were a place of unbridled lust and the whores, his mother included, often 'entertained' strange men in exchange for money. The back of the baths had been converted into different stalls, each quarter consisting of a stone bed and hardly anything else. Here, the men satisfied their lust and often left behind their comments on the walls.

                As he walked down the corridors now, he saw the various belongings of the visitors in the lockers. Above, were mosaic designs depicting various erotic poses and pictures. He had studied these pictures many times over the years as his mother was 'working'.

                His mother had been a popular choice amongst the men and had therefore been granted many gifts. As a result, the old colonel, his father, had arranged with the pimp to allow her to raise her son and he was willing to pay him an undisclosed amount per month. The money had allowed her to keep and raise her son, although it did not pay for much else.

                Walking into the cell he shared with her now, he dropped a few coins onto the bed where she lay, recovering from her last job. "Here's enough for some bread and cheap wine," he said, leaning forward to kiss her on the head. He grimaced at the reek of manly sweat that still clung to her.

                She smiled and nodded. She had never asked where the money came from, for fear that her son might decide to lie to her.

                He nodded and exited the cell, disgusted at the moans and grunts he heard all around him. The stench of lovemaking was pungent all around, mingling with the sweet heady smell of opium. It was a smell that he was familiar with, and yet it sickened him.

                He hated the life, and yet he knew that it was their only chance for survival. The social structure was a rigid stigma that was impossible to break. Prostitutes and their children had no other place in society. Ashqelon was a modern city, a bustling city or traders and merchants and all trades. Even now in the early hours of twilight, many traders still opened their stalls, promoting their wares shamelessly. 

                He sighed as he saw the slave trader, seeing his collection of slaves. He pitied the children behind the bars. He was free unlike them, although his profession made him no better in the eyes of society. A hypocritical society that used its whores and gigolos ardently and persecuted them relentlessly.

                He was discreet about his doings; the exploitation of the body of a boy or man for sexual gratification was outlawed. Christianity was still a young religion, and although its powers were growing, many still adhered to the old customs.

                His sharp eyes caught sight of a well-dressed gentleman standing alone by the sidewalk. The man signalled him over with a quick nod. He led him behind a building, hidden from the view of the public.

                "How much to make you my bitch?" the man asked arrogantly, his hand loosening the girdle of his fine tunic.

                He bit back this indignant remark and answered as humble as possible, "Six solidi, sir, and I am yours for your enjoyment."

                The man contemplated it for a minute, and then nodded, gesturing for him to follow him into the shadows. "Come here, my bitch!" he commanded. Suddenly, he lunged forward, fingers looking more like deadly talons and eyes blazing with feral lust.

                Daerian stepped back and slammed a stake into the man's chest, waiting for the satisfactory whoosh that followed a well-aimed stake through the chest.

                "Stupid thing!" he spat, kicking at the clod of dirt that lay on the ground. He stuck his stake back into its hiding place and left the alley.

                Daerian had been slaying the undead for a few years now, ever since he had learnt of his gifts when he was thirteen. Even at that young age he had been a popular gigolo, although more frequently used as a serving boy in the households of the rich on certain occasions. His mother's pimp had doubled as his agent, 'renting' the boy out to supplement his income.

***

                Daerian tipped the sparkling crystal canter, filling the empty goblet with deep ruby liquid. The rich floral bouquet of the heady wine wafted to his nostrils, enticing him with its richness. Ignoring his desire, he smiled at the noble lord before taking a few steps back, away from the man's grasping hand, which had a while ago been fondling him.

                As he returned to his corner, he saw the man wink briefly at him, before making a lewd motion with his hands under the table where others would not spy them. Daerian's eyes roved the vast dining room for the umpteenth time that night, taking in the scenario. A dozen or more young serving boys such as himself were positioned strategically around the immense dining table that seemed to be over laden with meats of such a variety that he didn't even know existed. Slabs of bread littered the table, crumbs scattered on the floor. Noblemen from many places were seated around the table, helping themselves to enormous portions of food, talking and laughing as wine was poured unbidden.

                He hurried forward to refill yet another goblet, the fragrant aroma of the wine engulfing his senses, dulling them. In his stupor, he accidentally overfilled the cup, spilling some of the wine on the robes of a nobleman. The deep garnet drops stained the man's pale robes.

                "I'm so sorry, sir," he apologised profusely, very aware of the horrors that awaited him for his carelessness. "I'm so sorry…"

                The man smiled at him and rose a hand to settle the host who had risen from his seat in anger at having been embarrassed by a serving boy in front of all his guests. His features were contorted with rage but he returned to his seat.

                "There is no need for anger, Pericoples," the gentleman advised. "It's just a small stain," he reassured Daerian, who was still trying to sponge out the stain. The man looked pointedly at his host and said, "If I may borrow the boy for a while to help me clean this stain?"

                The host nodded, his glare intently focused on Daerian.

                Daerian followed the man out of the dining hall, his heart racing. He wasn't sure if the man would whip him for soiling his robe. Suddenly, the man stopped, and pulled him into a silent hallway.

                "Strip!" he commanded, his hands already tugging at Daerian's simple toga.

                Hesitant at first, but spurned by his fear of what was to come, Daerian did as he was told. He stood nervously in front of the man, naked. The man began a thorough inspection of his body, until suddenly, he gave an exclamation of satisfaction.

                "You may get dressed," he said kindly now, handing Daerian his toga, which the boy immediately slipped on, embarrassed by his nakedness. "You're the one I've been searching for."

                "Why have you been searching for me?" Daerian asked cautiously, afraid of provoking any anger.

                "This." His finger pressed on a spot on Daerian's back, just slightly above his left shoulder blade. "The mark of the Slayer."

                "What mark?"

                The man presented a small silver mirror and angled it behind Daerian so that he could see the mark in question. 

                "A birthmark? That's my birthright?" Daerian demanded incredulously.

                "It's not just a birthmark, it's the mark of the Slayer, of your lineage anyway. Notice the shape of it, somewhat like a shapeless bird?"

                "It looks like a shapeless blob to me. Look, if you wanted me to perform any favours for you, sir…"

                "I do not require any 'favours' from you, you arrogant wretch… I require you to trust me," the older man blustered, turning red.

                "You want me to trust a nameless stranger I'm just appointed to serve at a banquet?"

                "You forget your place, slave!" the gentleman thundered. Then he simmered down, suppressing his rage. "If you must, my name is Antius, son of Laeson. I've been sent to you from the Watcher's Council, to monitor your progress and to further train you, to enable you to hone your hidden talents to their maximum potential."

                "What hidden talents?"

                Without a word, Antius suddenly unsheathed an ornate dagger from his robes and lunged at the boy. Daerian moved in towards the dagger, veering off course at the last possible moment. Using the heel of his palm, he struck Antius on his inner forearm, following with sharp wrench of the dagger, tossing the weapon aside before felling the man onto his back, straddling him with a fist poised to punch.

                Antius laughed, his breath smelt of wine and beef. "You're ready, my boy. Yes you are."

                Daerian didn't budge, still mistrusting the fallen man. "You tried to kill me!"

                "It was merely a test to test your level of competence," Antius protested, struggling to get up. "To show how prepared you were."

                "How prepared I was to save myself? In that case, I'm very prepared… but I still don't understand."

                "I'll explain better if you let me up."

                Daerian complied, getting off the man, but making no attempt to assist him. "Speak fast, we've been gone long enough and I must return to my duties, as you to your feast."

                "Fair enough, but I'll need longer than a few minutes, so will you meet me before sunset tomorrow in the market square?"

                Daerian nodded and followed to man back to the dining hall. He began his duties of a slave boy immediately, refilling goblet after goblet, subjecting himself to the blind groping of drunken men.

                The sun was low on the horizon, its dying rays colouring the sky a multitude of colours, the chromatic wonders seemingly a celestial masterpiece. Daerian swept his surroundings with a casual gaze, searching for Antius.

                He ran a hand through his dark hair, shifting the shoulder length strands away from his face. His blue toga flapped gently in the warm zephyrs and he wished he had brought something warmer along as the temperature was dropping.

                He caught sight of the man just as the sun sank beneath the horizon, and darkness swallowed the world.

                "You're late," he said curtly, no longer using the humble tone he had been brought up to use. He sensed that he had a hold over this man and he would not have to put up with any disrespect.

                Antius flushed, but he bit back his words. He handed Daerian a sharp wooden stake, freshly sharpened as the crude splinters bit into Daerian's hand as he gripped it.

                "This is all you will need for tonight," Antius said, acknowledging the stake.

                "What's it for?"

                "You'll see."

                Daerian glared obstinately at the man. "Tell me or this meeting is over." His threat worked, as he had suspected, this meeting was of much importance.

                "Fine. But you must follow me," Antius reasoned.

                "Fair enough. Lead the way," Daerian said, his tone more courteous now.

                He followed the man through the deepening darkness, the streets occasionally lighted up by glowing torches that also provided some heat. At last, they stopped.

                "Where are we?" Daerian asked, his grip tightening on his stake. "What are we doing here?"

                "Work."

Daerian twirled the stake he had been given idly, still puzzled. The sun had set a while back, and Antius was yet to show him what was so damn important in a cemetery. He listened intently, feeling a strange sensation surge through his body as he heard a strange scraping. It almost seemed subterranean, the scratching getting clearer now.

                A moment later, the earth erupted from under him, a pair of clawed hands barely missing his ankles. Daerian threw himself backwards, landing neatly on his hands before flipping over. Subconsciously, the stake had become an integral part of his weaponry, poised for the kill.

                The pair of hands had managed to pull about half of the creature's torso out of the fresh earth. Yellow eyes glinted at him, as a feral growl was unleashed.

                "Stake him!" Antius ordered, appearing from behind a tombstone. 

                Drawing a deep breath, Daerian lunged in with a hard kick to the creature's head before plunging the stake into its chest. The ugly apparition howled into the night, a cry of pure anguish and raw rage.

                "Again! This time, aim for the heart!" Antius snapped.

                "I did!"

                "Stab him on the left side!"

                Daerian nodded and quickly withdrew the stake, and plunged it in again, this time hitting home as the snarling beast erupted in an explosion of dust.

                "You're getting there." The comment was dry, devoid of any expression.

                Daerian whirled around, anger etched on his features. "What the hell is going on here?" he snapped, picking up the fallen stake and pointing it at Antius, barely inches away from piercing the older man's chest.

                "You're the Destined." Antius' deadpanned non-explanatory. 

                Daerian pushed the stake closer, the splintered end grazing Antius' heaving chest. "Explain that or I'll…" He exerted some pressure on the stake, the tip punctuating his meaning.

                Antius breathed deeply, regretting it immediately as he let out a gasp of pain. "You're the Destined One of your generation to stand up against the forces of darkness. That's your sole birthright, to hunt down and slay every single last vampire and demon that stands in your path till the day you die."

                A wistful look of satisfaction crossed Daerian's face. "That's it?" he asked, his tone somewhat incredulous. "You drag me out here for me to stick a stake into some creature, and then tell me some nutcase story?"

                "You asked," Antius muttered. "And that's not all. You've been blessed with awesome powers, gifts that will greatly assist you in your battle against evil."

                "Gifts? You mean that's what you've been testing me for?"

                "Yes!"

                "Okay, assuming that this is the truth, what happens after I die? No more sacred warrior?"

                "The instant you die, another one is Destined, inheriting the same birthright."

                "That makes sense," Daerian said, his face revealing that he thought otherwise.

                Antius felt his blood begin to boil. Brashly, he shoved aside the stake, ignoring the pain as the point grazed his chest. "Look, I understand that this might be a shock to you. I never once thought that the Destined would be a…" He trailed off, not knowing how to phrase his next sentence.

                "A what? A slave?" Daerian sneered.

                "Well, yes. One would be let to envision the Destined as an aristocrat, royalty even, to be given such an honor!" Antius defended.

                Daerian threw back his head and laughed. "You really think that royalty would get off their fat behinds to stick skewers into anything other than pigs and goats? You really are a fool, old man!"

                Antius glowered. "Then why don't you show me how mistaken I am?" he challenged.

                "Fine!"

                "Meet me here again tomorrow night."

                "Fine!" Daerian stormed away, throwing his stake aside as he strode away.

                Antius looked over to see where the stake had gone. He smiled when he saw an impaled statue.

To be continued…

Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com


	6. Chapter 6: Lifetimes

From                       : Chihuahua

Date                        : 8th April 2003

Disclaimer              : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category                : A, JJ-HR, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating                    : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note       : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

CHAPTER 6: LIFETIMES 

MAINE

                "Jessie!" Race bolted upright, washed in cold sweat. He wiped his damp forehead with the back of his hand, ripping the sheets aside with the other. He fumbled for the nightlight, flicking the switch. Another dream, another nightmare. 

                "Another nightmare?" a quiet voice asked, tinged with some sleepiness.

                Race nodded. "It's nothing. Go back to sleep, Stell." He felt the sheets shift as she felt repositioned herself. A moment later, her warm hand was on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

                "We'll get through this, Race. We'll do it together." She turned his head to face hers, gazing straight into his icy blue eyes. "I promise."

                Race drew a deep breath. It was all he could do from crying. Despite his best efforts, he felt a warm tear trace its way down his right cheek. "I miss her… I miss my little girl!" He burst into tears, his body wracked with sobs.

                "I do too… but there's nothing you can do. Nothing to bring her back."

                "I could have protected her better." Self-doubt was evident in his voice.

                "No you couldn't," Estella whispered.

                "I'm her father. I should have been there to protect her. I…" Rage pulsated in his voice now.

                "Jonny was there… the Slayer was with her, and even he couldn't protect her. You wouldn't have been able to save her!" Estella placed a soothing hand on her ex-husband's bare shoulder.

                "I still could've tried!" The pulsing anger was gone, doubt replacing it.

                "Race, you were a good father. A terrific dad… and even so, there was nothing you could have done in the situation. I know she knew and understood that." She decided to attack his doubt, lay it to rest.

                "How can I be sure? How can I know if my baby knew that I would've done anything to save her? How could she?" Self-doubt oozed from every word.

                Estella was not above recognizing the irony of the situation; Race Bannon, the man who was perpetually the poster boy for confidence was agonizing over his parenting skills when it was the one job he excelled at above all others. "She knew, she knew her daddy loved her."

                Race smiled, a small crooked smile. "Then she must have known that her mom loved her too."

                "Absolutely!" Estella affirmed. "No question about it!" She laughed softly.

                "I'm sorry, Stella… I'm so sorry…"

                Estella was slightly taken by the apology. "About what?" she asked, not knowing if she wanted to know the answer.

                "About everything. About my work. About my life. About your life. About us. About Jessie. I'm just so sorry, for everything."

                "It's not your fault. I never blamed you for any of it," she said firmly. "I knew what I was getting myself into back then when I said 'I do', so it's not your fault. You did nothing to mislead me, I just wasn't able to cope as well as I thought I would've been able to." She looked at Race again, amazed at how taxed by his own personal guilt he was.

                "I should never have gotten you involved. Or…"

                "She chose her life, Race. Let it be and let her rest."

                "Aren't you a bit affected by this? She's gone!" Race demanded.

                Estella felt her temper begin to fray and she felt herself burst. "How dare you?" she said, her tone sharp and clipped. "Of course I care, she was my daughter too. Of course I care… you yourself said so. But she IS gone. I can't bring her back; I wasn't there to stop it. And even if I was there, God knows if I could have saved her!" Hot tears coursed down her cheeks as her furious outburst ended. "God!"

                Race pulled his ex-wife into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it… what I said, it was stupid."

                There was an ample silence as they both just hugged and cried in each other's arms for a long while, two souls bound together by life and death.

***

                Benton stepped into the family library, cinching the belt of his robe tightly around himself. He wasn't surprised to see the light on. He padded along the heavily carpeted walkway till he saw another expectation.

                Hadji was slumped on the heavy table, a book open beside him as though he had been reading it before sleep finally took him. A notepad and ballpoint pen lay beside his left hand, a sure indication that he had been taking notes about his reading material.

                Benton gazed fondly upon his older son, and at once, a familiar feeling of sadness consumed him.   

                'Why is all this happening to us?' he questioned inwardly as he saw his son's drained expression. 'How much more do we have to go through before it all ends?' Benton sighed softly. First, Rachel died. Enter Race, and when he finally gained acceptance, there was Hadji. After everything had fallen into place, in came Jessie. Benton smiled. For a while, all had seemed good, except for the regular death threats by his many enemies. Suddenly, Jonny was part of an ancient prophecy, Race and Jessie were a much bigger part in his son's life than he could've ever imagined. Then Jessie had died, and Jonny vanished. Now, here was Hadji working insane hours at translating and decoding old scripts and passages, trying to find out more about his brother's destiny and the lineage leading to Jonny. Everything seemed such a mess, and yet it seemed to be the main design of life.

                Benton rubbed his brow, trying to clear his head. Silently he took the blanket he had taken down with him and gently and carefully draped it over his sleeping son. Hadji did not even stir.

                Benton straightened himself, feeling the coiled up tension in his shoulders. Quietly, he picked up the book beside Hadji and began to read it silently. He was relieved to find that it was written in Old English, a form that he could still remember from when he had picked it up in college when doing a doctorate in languages. He had done a thesis on how most native languages seemed to stem from a common tongue.

                He glanced over at Hadji's scribbled notes and saw that his sin had not gone very far in deciphering the ancient text. Who knew how long he had spent on just deciphering the first paragraph? He ignored that for a moment, settling down to read and making a personal note to help his son with any future work. The text was apparently written by an English priest in 1297 A.D. and it was a rough outline on the lineage of the Slayer, the Destined.

                He read:

                'Ever since the beginning of time, the war between good and evil has seen no end, a test of might in the beings that walked the Earth. Neither manifested itself physically, but were forever present in everything living. For as both were omnipresent, they failed to conquer and quell one another. Life was flawed, and everything had the capacity to be neither purely good or evil in essence.

                'There were many soldiers of the battle, those who fought for the sake of their calling. Evil flowed through the hearts of demons, hell-beasts and dark gods. But that was not enough and evil tainted the souls of man, and so the first hybrids were born, not entirely demonic, and yet only vaguely human. Amongst many of these hybrids were the vampyr, the vampires. They took tenancy in the shells of men and women alike, invulnerable to many things. They were able to stalk their prey under the guise of being normal humans and were able to share the dark gift of tainted immortality with their victims. They were also fully capable of hunting simply for sport, caring none for their drained prey. Over the eons, the vampyr grew to enormous multitudes, occupying every continent, slaying all that fell prey to them. 

                'Good had its own soldiers, four beings of supernatural ability. These were beings of light, fair beyond account of build and appearance and each derived his and her strength from an element. They were gifted with many skills and were virtually undefeated in combat.'

                Benton flipped the page and found an account of each of the four warriors, two men and two women.

***

            Race slipped out of bed, careful so not to wake Estella. He got dressed quietly and padded down the steps. He was surprised to hear someone already out of bed. He expected it to be Hadji, but was surprised to see Benton scooping some coffee into the coffeemaker. 

                "G' mornin', Benton," he said, sounding a lot more chipper than he actually felt.

                "Good morning, Race," Benton acknowledged, scooping yet another level spoonful of coffee.

                An ample silence followed, interrupted only by the sounds of Benton's activity. Both men stared at each other, each expecting the other to break the tension.

                "I hate this, Ben. I hate the way we seem to be afraid of each other. Of how we are afraid of talking anymore!"

                Benton nodded. "Me too. But there are so many things that lie between us now. So many things that block of what we used to have."

                "What changed, Ben?"

                Benton hesitated for a moment, sorting his thoughts. "The secrecy Race. We no longer have that mutual trust. I'm not sure of who you really are, and you probably still have your doubts on how much I know about my son's birthright."

                There was another pregnant moment of silence as Benton's words sunk in. 

                "We're in this together, Ben," Race said, finally, "so let's not keep each other in the dark anymore. For the time being, we share a similar mission, to locate Jonny."

                Benton nodded his agreement. "No more secrets."

                "No more," Race affirmed. "Ask what you want, and I'll do my best to answer it."

                "Are you really Roger Bannon, the bodyguard and friend I have known for the past twelve years?"

                "Yes, that much is true," Race said.

                "Good. Your turn."

                "How much of the Slayers you know?"

                Benton cleared his throat. "As far as I know, a branch of my family had always carried the lineage of the Destined, a continuum of Slayers. When a Slayer is killed, the birthright is passed down to his next of kin. I knew that Jonny had inherited the birthright when I saw the birthmark on his left shoulder blade."

                Race nodded. "I was informed of the existence of a new Destined, but we were unable to place a Watcher for him immediately as you were rather against the idea. But when tragedy struck, and you finally realized how vulnerable your family was, I-1 seized the opportunity to place me in your service."

                "So, I-1 is a subsidiary of the Watcher's Council?"

                Race shrugged. "You could say that, but more accurately, I-1 is an independent body. Its primary mission is to provide Destined Ones with the proper Watchers to guide and train them."

                "What about the Watcher's Council?"

                Race snorted. "They refused to acknowledge the second lineage of Slayers, although a few Watchers were dispatched secretly to guide a few of the boys. A pride issue I guess, but that's why we split. Several Watchers who accepted the existence of the Destined split from the Council and founded their own little 'club', bringing with them what little resources they had. Of course, they still had internal ties with the Council, but it's all hush hush."

                "And this little 'club' you speak of is I-1?" Benton asked, pouring two mugs of strong black coffee.

                Race took a sip of his before continuing. "Not exactly. I-1 had once existed as a government covert operations group. However, once the 'Big Boys' realized that national security wasn't all about keeping enemies at bay, but also fighting the darkness that lay within the country's perimeter, they placed the unexplainable cases under I-1." Race took another sip of his coffee. Sighing in satisfaction, he continued, "Corbin and the other 'Big Kahunas' realized that they were in way over their heads and decided they needed some expert help…"

                "Which is when they roped in the renegade Watchers," Benton finished.

                Race snapped his fingers and gave Benton his 'You-Da-Man' look. "That's more or less the condensed version. But let's just say that the renegade Watchers were more than happy to have some big guns on their side, so they accepted the offer. In return, they were to train selected I-1 agents as Watchers."

                Benton tapped him fingers on the solid counter top, mulling the information. "Wait, you said second lineage of Slayers…"

                Race smiled. "I was waiting to see if you'd catch on to that. There are two lineages of Slayers that we, the Watcher's Council and I-1, know of. Jonny's lineage is that of the Destined. The lineage is passed down through blood, though it's not always that simple." He paused to see if the doc was following him clearly on this. Satisfied that he wasn't left too far behind, Race continued, "The 'original' lineage of Slayers, The Chosen Ones, are selected by The-Powers-That-Be, and I don't mean metaphorically, that's what they're called. There is no necessary blood relation between the girls, and the selection is purely random, more or less."

                "The girls?" Benton asked quizzically.

                Race sighed. "The Chosen Ones are all girls, part of some ancient prophecy. The Destined Ones on the other hand are all males. Probably some kinda quirk somewhere along the way too."

                "Okay, let's leave it at that for the moment and move on to a more immediate call. Why is Jonny a Slayer? I mean if the lineage is carried on by blood, how can he be a Slayer when I'm just, well, normal." Benton shifted his mug over to his other hand, soaking in the warmth of the hot ceramic.

                "I told you it wasn't quite as simple as simple a gift passed down through blood. For many generations now, the Destined One has pretty much operated mainly in Europe, being the fact that they were all selected from your kin over there."

                "Then they would have to be really remote relatives. I can't remember having any relatives over there."

                "Yeah, they're very remote relatives, I've got the family tree planned out somewhere in my room. But back to the topic. What happened was that about twelve years ago, the last Destined One was killed, along with his immediate family." Race stopped to take another sip of his now warm coffee.

                "But you said that before that I-1 also had another boy under surveillance to determine if he was the next Destined," Benton protested, getting tangled in the tale.

                Race nodded. "This is where it gets slightly complicated. The kid, the Spanish one, was a bastard son of the last Destined. Apparently the guy had some worries about his own son not being able to uphold the duty, the kid was asthmatic, so he sowed his seeds in another place so to speak, and kept it a secret. The kid was later moved over to London for surveillance." Race chuckled. "We managed to locate the boy through scrying, when we were trying to locate the next Slayers whereabouts. Of course Jonny turned up too, I guess instead of showing us the next Slayer, it showed the possible candidates."

                "But the other kid was a blood-relative, why didn't he get chosen?" Benton frowned a little.

                Race shrugged. "Damned if I knew, but anyway, Watchers and operatives were sent out to locate the two boys. They would be the first generation officially 'Watched' Destined Ones. Over the years, the boy showed promise, but he was ordinary… there was no extraordinary ability or anything." Race beamed proudly before continuing, "Jonny on the other hand seemed to be an excellent candidate. Even the operative sent with me, Jessie, agreed. Of course, she never told him that."

                "So, this pretty much means you lied about not knowing how the heck Jonny cleared that dash before Hadji reset the alarm?" Benton asked, knitting his eyebrows teasingly.

                Race nodded, then added indignantly, "Hey you didn't 'fess up too, Cryptic Man!"

                "Yeah, I know." Benton sighed, a rare sigh of defeat. "It's all screwed up!"

                Race nodded. "It's pretty screwed up shit, Ben. I know what that's like."

                "I'll cope," Benton said, giving a watery smile.

                At that moment, a very drowsy looking Hadji appeared in the doorway. "Good morning," he mumbled, before stumbling towards the coffeepot to pour himself a strong dosage.

***

SAN FRANCISCO

            Jessie jerked awake, the potion effect waning. Her head hurt and she gasped for breath, although she no longer needed it. The room seemed to expand and contract at random, lending a warped appearance to her surroundings. Turning around, she saw Prumiva looking at her, a satisfied smile on her face.

                "I see that you were successful in finding out the truth," she said, checking her long nails. She redirected her gaze at Jessie.

                "I couldn't finish it though. I didn't finish it."

                "There'll be time for that some other time. For now, it's dusk and we will feed tonight," Prumiva said, ticking a glance at Jessie to check her response.

                Jessie simply nodded, and got out of her cot. It would be a few more hours before she could continue that dream. And somehow, she feared the outcome very much.

***

                Jonny jogged to a payphone and placed a call to Maine. He waited impatiently for the calls to be connected, checking his watch every so often. He took peeks out at the streets, taking in the slick asphalt; it had rained earlier on. 

                "Come on, Pop. Pick up the damn phone!" he muttered.

                "We're going to have a serious talk about the language you've been using lately, young man," his father's deep baritone said.

                Jonny jumped a little, then composed himself. "Do you have the spell?"

                "Yes, now do you mind telling me exactly what you're going to use it…?"

                "No time now, Pop. Please, just give me the spell," he pleaded. He could almost see his father sigh on the other side.

                "Fine. Firstly, how fluent are you in Ancient Greek?" His father's question came as a surprise.

                "I could do with some help here and there, but otherwise I'm pretty okay, I guess." Jonny hoped that he was as good as he sounded. "Why?"

                "Because that's the closest we could come to an unbinding spell. I'm pretty sure Jessie used a spell from an old Aztec journal, the book had been moved quite recently, judging from the dust patterns. There was no reverse spell, but there was one in Greek, so here it is. Do you have a pen ready?"

                Jonny nodded, before realizing that his father couldn't possibly see him, he added, "Yeah, Pop. Let a rip!"  He scribbled furiously as his father recited the incantation over the phone, taking note of the steps and precautions too.

                "Jonny, please come home," his father ended. There was an unmistakable pleading tone in his voice. It was the desperate voice of a father who knew that his son was in danger.

                Jonny fought back his tears, and struggled to keep his voice level. "I will, Pop. I will. Later." That was all he could manage before his wall broke down. Just as he hung up, he could hear his family calling him, telling him not to hang up. He had hung up long ago.

                Hot tears traced wet tracks down his cheeks. He brushed them away with his sleeve. He vowed to dust the next vampire he saw within thirty seconds. He repeated that vow twenty times that night, breaking it each time to pound each one into a mutilated pulp before driving a stake home. 

                And still no Jessie.

***

ASHQELON

                "Strike to the right!" roared Antius as Daerian disobeyed yet another command. He marched over to where the boy was sparring with an operative and smacked him smartly upside his head.

                Daerian veered around, anger blazing in his eyes. "Don't…!"

                "Don't you dare tell me what I can and cannot do!" Antius roared back. "I'm your Watcher! And you will do as I command!"

                Daerian shot back, "And why should I? Because I'm a slave? Because…"

                "Because you want to stay ALIVE!" 

                Daerian glared back defiantly for a moment, and then fell back. "Which stance do I take?"

                "The crane. Focus more on your agility, speed. Immense power is not needed here, not as much as stamina." He looked approvingly at his protégé as the boy delivered yet another devastating blow to the operative's chest. Protective pads or nothing, Antius was glad that he wasn't on the receiving end of the boy's fury.

                "Good, now try switching attack modes. Be unpredictable. Don't let him guess your next attack, that's your strongest advantage!" He nodded his head in approval, noting the boy's improved stance and technique. 

                Daerian stopped his barrage, and looked over at Antius. "I need to get back to work. This," he said, motioning at his surroundings, "isn't going to make me any money. I've got to care for my mother too."

                Antius suddenly realized the burden the boy was under. He was a slave, a gigolo when purchased. He had a mother who lived by the same profession. They were social outcasts, scum on the pavement. And now, on top of all that, the boy was the Destined One. He dug into his lambskin pouch and pulled out a few gold coins and offered it to the boy.

                Indignant anger flared on the boy's features. He pushed back the offering hand, shaking his head vigorously as he did so. "No, sir. I will not take what I've not earned. Think of me as foolish, but I am nothing in society, and all I have is my dignity. So, I thank you for your kind offering, but I cannot take it."

                Antius smiled a rare smile. In fact, he had forgotten that he had used to like children; he had adored playing with his nephews and nieces when they were children. _And when I was less enlightened_, he added to himself. He banished his idle thoughts for now, focusing on the task at hand. The boy was strong, yes, but he would need a lot of polishing before he was as good as some of the previous Slayers.

                "We'll stop for today, but you must promise to return tomorrow to continue your training." Antius' tone was kind but there was a note of finality in it. "Dismiss," he said, waving the boy away.

***

                "You'll need to be on duty tonight," Antius spoke to the strong young man standing in front of him. "The attacks have been more frequent of late, and you've been unable to do little more than diminish a few."

                Daerian was reproachful as he spoke. "I cannot patrol tonight as I've been hired to serve at a banquet." Another reproachful look told Antius all he needed to know: the pay was too good to refuse and he needed it for his ailing mother.

                Antius nodded understandingly. You must tend to your business then, but be on the lookout for anything strange." It was against his better judgment to let the boy off his patrolling duty, but he understood how much rode on the promise of a good pay. A sturdy boy, not quite yet a man was a very tempting offer, and he was sure that Daerian would be rewarded handsomely, more so if his pimp arranged the usual 'after-plans'.

                "Thank you. Tomorrow night, I'll work double," Daerian promised. He was relieved to find his Watcher in an understanding mood today. He desperately needed the money. The herbs his mother required to stay alive were expensive, rare flowers and roots brought over from China to trade with the Western civilization. He didn't know how much time they bought her, but he couldn't just sit back and watch her die. 

                "Have you eaten yet?" Antius questioned, noticing not for the first time that his protégé had been looking worryingly gaunt lately.

                Daerian looked into his Watcher's eyes. "Yes," he said, hoping that his moment's hesitation did not cost him his believability. 

                Antius understood. His years of Watching had fine-tuned his senses to emotional vibes. "Well, here are a few gold coins. Go get yourself something else to eat; you'll need your strength for tonight." He made sure that he handed out more than he thought the boy's mother's medicine would cost.

                Daerian hesitated, shifting uneasily. "No need…"

                "Just take it, Daerian. I know…" Antius said, shifting his impatient tone almost immediately to denote his true meaning.

                Daerian smiled. "Thank you."

                "Go now. And take care of yourself."

                Daerian cringed a little as he felt yet another pinch on his rear. Before he could shift his position, he felt another hand cup his groin. He forced a smile on his face before he said, "More wine?" His groper, a young woman smiled languidly before nodding. Daerian tipped his flask and poured a steady stream of crimson liquid carefully into her goblet.

                The woman raised her goblet and tipped it slightly, as if toasting him. Then she took a deep sip. "Excellent service tonight, Prumiva!" she called to her host.

                Daerian looked over at the host. She was exquisite, raven locks cascading over her shoulders and falling over her front, just covering her ivory bosom. Dark kohl lined her expressive eyes heavily, contrasting stunningly against her alabaster complexion

                Daerian was a little puzzled about one small matter. Several small matters actually. Prumiva, or so she had been called on countless occasions in the evening was seemingly wealthy, every bit a socialite, but this was the first time he had ever heard of her. The rich and wealthy were constantly flaunting their wealth and it would've been strange that he had never even seen her. Secondly, the slaves around her were all foreign faces to him. Banquets were normally a secondary meeting place for slaves and gigolos, as the popular ones were always called to serve. Tonight, none of the other young men around him were familiar, some even from as far away as China.

                Daerian glanced around him again. Something just didn't feel right; he could feel it in his bones, literally. There was a strange sensation pulsing through his body, reminiscent of the strange feeling he had experienced the night he had learned of his heritage. The other slaves and probable gigolos were all stripped to the waist like him. 

                Then realization struck him. They were all deathly pale; there was hardly any difference between their pristine white togas and lean bodies. The Chinese boy especially stood out as his black hair and eyes seemed like bits of charcoal on white linen.

                While refilling yet another goblet, he ticked his glance over at the host and took in her stunning appearance once more. She no longer looked beautiful, but rather ghastly as she sipped her wine and smiled at her unsuspecting guests. He contemplated his next move. He took relief in noticing that  all the invited guests were still alive.

                He noticed Prumiva gesturing for him to come over to her side. She lifted her glass to be filled. When he had done that, she stood up, and spoke loudly. "I trust that my boys tonight are to your liking, ladies!" When squeals of delight and approval were heard, she smiled and continued, "Then ladies, each of you may take one for your personal contentment tonight in my guest chambers. 

                Daerian realized in horror that this was a feast, not just for the guests, but also for the undead. Each guest would be a tantalizing treat for each of the host's 'slaves'. He decided that if there was a time to act, now would've been as good as any.

                "No! Stay away from the slaves!" he yelled, tossing his flask aside. 

                "Silence, boy!" a woman shouted. "You need to be taught your place!"

                Not wasting any time, Daerian snapped the leg of a chair and launched it across the room at an Indian slave, impaling him for a second before he turned to dust. "They're all vampires, demons! Run!" he roared.

                The women, having watched the horrifying spectacle screamed and ran, some consciously heading for the door, others running mindlessly. The screams reverberated through the villa as each slave showed his true face, the grossly deformed faces of the undead.

                Daerian moaned silently. He was outnumbered and the odds against him were huge. On top of all of that, he had to try to rescue any of the guests. Putting on a brazen exterior, he cart wheeled aside and snapped a couple more legs off another chair and brandished the splintery pieces of wood. 

                "You all hungry?" he taunted, body poised for an easy offensive and yet ready to take on a defensive stance. He ticked glances at the various vampires scattered all over the dining hall. The women were surrounded. Prumiva on the other hand was watching his movements with analytical eyes, observing him as he struck her minions.

                Leaving his first victim in a dusty heap, Daerian snapped the neck of another vampire as it lunged in for the kill. He jumped in with a scissor takedown, wrestling a tall well-built vamp with his thighs. He threw his extra makeshift stake with deadly precision, dusting another before he got back to his feet. He grabbed the Chinese boy's neck and slammed his head hard onto the solid tabletop. Seizing a knife, he plunged it through the back of his neck, disconnecting the vertebrae. There was a howl of anguish before Daerian jammed his stake through.

                Suddenly, he felt a heavy blow to the side of his head. He was knocked across the table, landing heavily on a chair. He felt a white flash of pain as a rib cracked under the pressure of the fall. Struggling to get up, he felt a well-aimed kick hit him in his broken rib, causing him to release a loud yell.

                Sweeping his hands about, he found the broken chair leg and taking a quick aim, he sent it flying at his assailant. He almost cried out in frustration when she caught it neatly in one hand and with the other snapped it into useless pieces.

                Prumiva smiled knowingly at him and it that instance, Daerian felt helpless. He clutched his broken and bruised rib and struggled to get up. Standing as straight as he could bear, he assumed a fighting stance. With the back of his left hand, he smacked a Russian slave in the throat. Deviating quickly to his left, he thrust his elbow sharply into the vampire's ribs. Spinning quickly on his heel, he twisted the vampire's head twice, before ripping it off the neck with a sharp yank. Then he lunged forward for an attack on Prumiva.

                His attacks were painfully futile as his injury made it difficult for him to attack whole-heartedly. Often the pain was so unbearable that he fell back. He felt a burst of satisfaction as his instep landed heavily in her face. His second kick also hit home, whacking her on her head.

                Just as he prepared to attack again, strong arms grabbed him from behind, the crushing force on his ribs nearly causing his to black out from the searing pain. It was quickly followed by a deep pressure on his throat and instant before he felt twin daggers piercing it. He saw Prumiva licking her blood-stained lips, a satisfied expression evident on her face. She ducked in again and slurped noisily, his warm blood running down his bare chest.

                Daerian struggled to loose himself but his strength was waning. A warm numbness seemed to overcome him as the world around him slowed its frenetic pace to that of a falling olive leaf. Blurs of colors danced across his vision, streamers of light flitted by and eruptions of seemingly endless waves washed over him, encasing him in a cocoon of sensuous pleasure.

                Her voice was a deep echo, persuasive and alluring, "Drink from me…"

                And he drank.

To be continued…

Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com


	7. Chapter 7: Resolutions

From                       : Chihuahua

Date                        : 17th April 2003

Disclaimer              : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category                : A, JJ-HR, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating                    : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note       : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

CHAPTER 7: RESOLUTIONS 

            "Hey, you ready?" Jonny asked, checking his bootlaces to make sure that they were battle-fast. He slipped a stake into its usual place, tucked in his waistband and another strapped to his leg. 

                Buffy gave him a wry smile. "Let's not forget my seniority here," she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She tied it up in a tight ponytail smoothed it once and looked over. "Let's kick ass!"

                "Or get ours kicked," Jonny grumbled. He held the door open for the other Slayer. He wasn't exactly happy about having to patrol as he had been working three shifts straight with only a short break in between at a small deli.

                It had been three days since he had last encountered Jessie, and though he had tried many times to find her, his attempts had been futile. He had taken out his frustration relentlessly on any vampire he met, thrashing them mercilessly before finishing them off. 

                Buffy looked over at her partner, trying to fathom his deepest thoughts. She was curious about his behavior the last couple of nights. His slaying had been erratic, less then disciplined. Okay, who was she to judge discipline, but he seemed to relish in the kill. Slaying was part of the Slayer job citation, but she had never really taken any pleasure in dusting the undead. Jonny's violent thrashing was rather disturbing. Even more so since she did not sense any true violence in the guy. It was almost a needy frustration that drove him on each night. 

                Jessie, she guessed correctly. She must have been some chick. A fighter too. Buffy grimaced. She wasn't one to step down from a challenge, but that chick could just be the one to break the Slayer's number one cardinal rule: Do not die.

                Already she heard the heavy clash of trash cans as another vampire was presumably being slammed about. She was right of course…

***

ASHQELON

                Daerian's eyes fluttered open, taking in the gloomy light of his surroundings. Shadows lurked everywhere, encasing him in a deep blanket of darkness. Suddenly, a shadow shifted to his right.

                "Why did you drink?" a calm voice demanded. Antius stepped forth, the shadows seemingly falling off him as he approached.

                "Why'd you think?" Daerian asked, a knowing smirk on his face. He felt the hunger begin to build up as his bloodlust grew.

                His Watcher simply gazed back in silence. His ex-Watcher. The man had no more authority on his life. Looking around, he realized that he was still in the villa, his own blood crusted around and on him. They hadn't even removed him from the spot he had died on. Rage built up inside him.

                "What were you promised? Immortality? Power?" Antius said. "We both know that that's nothing but lies. Immortality and power at what cause? Damnation!"

                Daerian smiled, his white teeth flashing in the dark. Already he felt the temptation to morph, to allow the true face of the demon that now resided in him to show. How he felt like showing Antius what it was that he was truly missing in life. He grinned again, enjoying the revulsion on Antius' face, knowing that he must have changed already.

                "Dear friend, what it offered was much more precious than immortality," he rasped.

                Antius shuddered involuntarily at the demonic face that masked the true beauty of the boy's face. "What then did it offer?"

                "Freedom!"

                Daerian's word reverberated in the emptiness, its sheer power hitting Antius as the older man looked sadly at the shell that had once been his charge.

                "Speechless old man?" Daerian laughed wildly, readjusting his soiled toga. "There's a first time to everything." Don't you want to know the feeling of absolute freedom?"

                There was no response. Antius understood the sheer magnitude of his doom now. He would not run, could not run. There was no way he could escape a force so powerful, so lethal. His only chance was to strike now.

                With a skilled hand, he drew a stake from his satchel and leapt in for the kill. Antius was a seasoned Watcher, probably the best, having trained Slayers-in-waiting and Slayers, but he was no match for a Slayer. Even as his stake plunged down, he saw Daerian shift his weight onto his hands as he rolled back over the table. The stake struck hard, but missed its target. 

                Daerian had been fast, but now he was faster. He threw himself over the table, and with a single strike disarmed his former Watcher. He smiled in satisfaction as he saw the pain on Antius' face, the old man clutching his broken wrist. Whipping out with a crescent kick, he floored the man, giving only a second's break before hurling the man savagely against a wall. The resounding crack of the man's skull brought new vigor to Daerian.

                "Never thought that it would end like this, huh, Antius?" Daerian taunted. He threw back his head and howled as he saw blood pouring down Antius' head. He walked towards the crumpled heap on the floor and picked him up with no apparent difficulty. 

                "Kill me," Antius' whisper barely cleared his lips when Daerian head butted him savagely. He wiped the smear of hot blood off his cheek and licked it.

                "You see Antius, this slaying matter is a lot more complicated than you could ever understand. I'm the Destined, the one person to be able to stand up against the forces of darkness.

                "But you see, I'm also a slave, meaning that I will continue to serve a world that will never appreciate the work I do each night to keep them safe. I'm bound by duty to serve a world of ignorant and selfish people! And the best part… I will die before my duty leaves my shoulders! And my son will take over! Another slave, another Destined One!

                "On top of that, my mother is dying and I have no way to save her. And because I am the Destined, I have to skip work some nights to slay the undead, leaving me with no money to help her. This, this immortality gives me the power to be free. Free from society. Free from the constraints of time. FREE from duty!" Daerian's voice echoed, his emotions thrown into a blender.

                "You want me to kill you fast, old friend?" Daerian asked, his face reverting back to its once mortal beauty. "To spare you the pain and humiliation? Well, you will get no mercy, you pompous old bag. Drown in your own blood and suffer your humiliation!" With that he kicked Antius a last time in the head, and marched out into the darkness. 

                He did not need to walk far as Prumiva stood in the immense courtyard, her loveliness pristine as the moon above. At her feet lay the still form of a boy, probably in his preteens. She was flanked by several of her surviving slave boys.

                "He's still alive, warm." Her voice was even more alluring than he had remembered. She gazed in satisfaction as Daerian picked the boy up and drained him as a baby suckled from its mother. "There's a good boy. Drink, and be strong!"

***

MAINE

                Benton closed the journal of Antius, his mind troubled by the fate of the man's charge. The old man had survived the brutal attack. During his recuperation at the Watchers' Council headquarters that was based in Athens then, he had written a very detailed account of his charge and the progress that they had made before the tragedy.

                _God, Jonny… Benton trailed off, refusing to continue his train of thought. For his sanity, he could not continue._

                Sighing with resolve, Benton picked up a second book that lay on the table, its spine cracked with age and the pages yellowed and warped. It was the same book he had taken away from Hadji that night. Benton leafed through the book rapidly, ignoring the crackling sounds of delicate parchment, until he came to the desired page.

                Looking at it once more, he was still astounded as to how much the image of a handsome young blond man could look so much like Jonny. Or was it the other way around?

                _Aefriol__…_

                Benton read the text next to the picture again, regarding the fourth and youngest Guardian of Light. During a great war against evil, he had lost his older brother and twin sisters to the battle, having barely escaped. 

                Aefriol was the Guardian of Air. His brother, Ajelle was the Guardian of Water while his sisters, Terra and Pirreli were the Guardians of Earth and Fire respectively. Each was blessed with superior strength and agility that surpassed any mortal to aid them in their battles.

                Three had perished in a great battle, slain by a demon onslaught of unimaginable numbers. All over, portals to Hell dimensions had opened, allowing access to unspeakable horrors; abominations that had disappeared from the face of Earth eons ago. 

***

                Ajelle looked at the horizon, a deep frown furrowing his brow. His azure eyes flashed once at the oncoming darkness, and a deep sense of foreboding washed over him. The lapis lazuli stone set in white gold that rested on his forehead felt hot for once.

                "Darkness is falling," he said, turning around to face his brother. Ajelle's long braid swished a little in the wind, dark as a raven. His robes billowed in the breeze, seemingly flowing like an endless pool of water.

                Aefriol sensed his brother's troubled mind, and was somewhat disturbed by it. Ajelle was far by the most experienced fighter of them all, striking a balance between strength and agility. "What do you see?" he asked, uncharacteristically timidly.

                Ajelle regarded his fair-haired brother. "Trouble lurks in the darkness."

                Pirelli self-consciously touched the hilts of her twin swords. "What's different about the darkness tonight? It's the same every night."

                Ajelle smiled, a sad smile. "Tonight will be different." Thunder rumbled just then, punctuating the gloom of his words. "It has begun…"

                "What has begun?" Terra asked as she smoothed the hem of her brown robes. Standing next to Pirelli, they were identical except for the color of their hair and robes. Pirelli's hair was a cascading lava flow, luxuriant and her robes were the color of sunset. Terra had hair the color of the richest earth.

                "The invasion. They are coming."

                Aefriol swung his sword in broad arc, decapitating his foe. The strange demon's head rolled off the cliff as its body slumped onto the ground, black blood pouring out of the open wound. The glowing blister which it had leapt out from pulsated with energy, its lumen a churning mass of swirls. Five more had appeared all around, each one spewing demons of endless variety. His sword plunged into the heart of another as he kicked another off the cliff, hearing it's piercing screech until it hit the rocks below.

                From the corner of his eye, he saw Pirelli hacking her way through a mob of vampires with her twin swords. Each blade was broad and short but lethal when in her hands. Dust seemed to swirl around her as she cut off heads and limbs. Next to her, Terra rammed the butt of her bladed staff into a vampire's chest, shattering his ribs and squashing his heart. The vampire was dusted as Terra swung the staff around, the bladed end catching a Mora demon's throat, ripping it open.

                "Ajelle! There are so many… too many!" Aefriol yelled, his slender blade causing massive damage with each swing and thrust. He parried a blow from a demon with tusks growing out of its limbs and returned with a devastating blow of his own. His robe was already soiled from the blood of the different demons he had slain that night, and a long cut down his face was oozing red blood.

                Ajelle seemed not to hear the call as he whirled around, his mighty broadsword glinting in the night as he cut down numerous foes. "There'll be more. We must go…" He began to back off from the cliffs, slashing path through. He saw his sisters doing the same, but Aefriol remained firm, killing demon after demon in a steady rhythm.

                "Aefriol, this way!" he hollered, his voice nearly drowned out by the din of battle. All around, shrieks of pain rang out and the stench of death and blood saturated the air. Aefriol began to hack his way back towards his siblings.

                "What now?" Terra asked.

                "We retreat." Ajelle's answer was flat, with no emotion. Even then, he was busy clearing a way.

                "We cannot just leave like that!" Pirelli protested.

                "We cannot win. Not now and not here. They have the advantage of numbers," Aefriol cried, slamming an elbow into a lizard-faced demons chest. He heard the creature's bones- if it had bones- crack.

                "Move!"

                "AJELLE!" the scream rang out like a bell, piercing the night, ripping through the battle. Aefriol whirled around, his sword dragging down diagonally the body of a demon. He saw Pirelli, her eyes wild from anger. Not just anger, grief flowed along with her tears. 

                Then he saw it. His brother stood there, still alive from his fatal wound. A huge spear protruded through his chest. And then he fell.

                Aefriol roared as his brother lat unmoving on the ground, skewered like a wild boar. His attacks became more savage, swift and punishing as he slayed every foe that approached. He could see both his sisters doing the same, their grief driving them on. Lightning flashed above, cutting the sky into a million ragged pieces. Thunder roared as the earth shook. 

                Pirelli was next, her body mangled by the shearing claws of a demon that looked like a cross between a werewolf and succubus. The demon left her in a wake of her own blood, but it did not live to do any more damage as Terra hacked at it wildly. Her composure lost in her tears as she reduced it to a bloody pulp and grit.

                Her intent was clear, she would destroy them all, or die trying. Somehow, she knew that she would die. Her robes were torn, blood spattered everywhere. Her arms ached from the exertion and she bled from a hundred small wounds. Still she went on, her bladed staff whipping wildly in deadly circles, mangling, decapitating and wounding anything that came close enough for her to maim.

                The attack was swift, so swift that she never even saw it coming. The wash of excruciating pain came late; the spike had already punched through her back, extending from her stomach. A second later, a second spike punched through her chest, piercing her lungs.

                Terra choked out a cry, not able to do more than croak.

                Then Aefriol was there, his sword whipping powerfully. He cut through flesh and bone with some effort, robbing the demon of its limb. The spike remained in his sister as he chopped off the spike on the other arm. The demon roared, its fetid breath not stalling Aefriol as he ducked in for the kill. This sword punched through the demon's throat, cutting off the roar. Aefriol savagely twisted the hilt, making sure to rip the insides of its throat. Releasing the grip for a moment, he pulled out a dagger he always kept in a sheath at his waist and plunged it into the demon's chest, carving out its heart.

                His throat burned and he realized that he had been screaming all the while. He didn't stop, not a pause. Tear tracks cut through the stains of destruction that lay heavily upon him. In that night alone, he lost his hope, reality exposed to him in the harshest light of all: lost.

                Lightning continued to blaze through the dark heavens as he cut his way through more demons and abominations. 

                Rain fell, cleansing drops of coolness after the bloodshed. The ground reeked of death, evidence of violence and gore littered the land. Blood mixed with the earth, giving it a ruddy red hue. Gristle and hacked flesh floated in the puddles.

                Aefriol dragged himself towards a village. He was severely injured as blood dripped off him in a staccato rhythm. He would die, he knew it. He welcomed it, although he was ashamed of his desire. Weariness bogged him down, making each step a sheer intolerable agony.

                Not being able to take anymore, he collapsed onto the ground, the sudden shock dulled by his sorrow.

                He felt gentle but firm hands lifting him up, carrying him to a shaded area under the trees. He looked and saw a young man, probably in his late teens. Premonition hit him hard, and he knew that this boy would be the birth of a legacy.

                He clutched the boy's hand. "Trust me," he said, his voice surprisingly strong. He drew his dagger and held the boy's hand firm as he cut a shallow wound into the boy's palm.

                Surprised, the boy tried to pull back, a pained gasp escaping his lips. 

                Aefriol pressed his own already cut hand over the boy's palm. Instantly, he felt a connection, as if two souls were intertwined. He could feel, sense, hear the boy's pulse and his mind opened up to the boy. Imaged of the past, memories, skills and gifts were transferred in that moment.

                Aefriol felt himself fade out of existence as more of him passed on to the boy. And then he was gone. The wound on the boy's hand was healed.

                So the Destined was born…

SAN FRANCISCO

                Jonny jammed two stakes simultaneously into two vampires, dusting them as his kick snapped the kneecap of another. To his side, he heard the soft whoosh and he realized that Buffy was beside him now, matching his rhythm as she staked vamp after vamp. 

                "You notice the sudden influx of vamp population all of a sudden?" he asked, ducking a wild blow and countering with a hard shove.

                "You mean as in our nightly slayings are doing nothing to reduce their numbers?" she said, breaking the arm of a vamp before staking it from behind. Her stake punched the ribcage and pierced its heart.

                "Yeah."

                "Weird, huh?" 

                "It's almost as if someone's out on a mission to breed as many newborns as possible." He cursed under his breath as he took a hard kick to his head, and another to his back. Jonny went down sprawling. Twisting his body, he barely avoided a hard stomp. Shifting his weight onto his hands, he whipped his legs around, the fist arc hitting the vampire in the face whilst the second leg swept her off her feet. She was dusted.

                Jonny pulled himself up and looked around. They were all gone… probably a few got lucky and scrammed. "How many tonight?"

                "I dusted six. You?" She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder.

                "Five, I think."

                "Eleven vamps in one sitting… that's got to be some kinda record."        Buffy cocked her head to the side as she studied him. "What gives?"

                He looked back blankly. "What's that supposed to mean?" he enquired warily.

                "What's up with you?" she demanded. "You've been totally schizo this past few nights."

                "I have not…" he protested.

                She cut him off, "You've been totally reckless… erratic. You're irresponsible, headstrong…"

                "So what!" he yelled, bringing a moment of silence. "You have no idea how I feel right now! You have no clue, so don't stand there preaching!"

                You think you're the only one who's been burned?" she screamed, fists balled up. "You think you're the only one who's been betrayed?"

                "This is different. Your asshole…"

                "Angel was NOT an asshole!"

                "Fine… Angel, stupid name though, tried to end the world! This is different!"

                "How?" she yelled. "How is this different? You love her, I loved him. I had to kill him, I stepped up to the task, and I killed him. I killed him. I…" her voice trembled with emotion. Her tears glistened in the dim light. 

                "I don't know. I don't know. I just can't kill…"

                "If you won't, I will!" she threatened.

                Jonny glared at her. "You will get through me first."

                "If you won't kill her, someone's got to." Her voice was steely now, her pretty face harsh with defiance. "You do not have the luxury of choosing which vampire you will kill. Soul or no soul, she must be slain if she is evil."

                "Jessie is not evil!"

                "How'd you know that?"

                "How'd you know that Angel was good?" he shot back.

                "He saved me, many times." Her tone was sad again, as if reminiscing.

                "And you repaid him with a stake?" he asked, sarcastically.

                "It was a sword. I had no choice. I am the Slayer. I had to protect the world… even at that cost."

                "Well, he had no soul then…"

                "He HAD a soul!"

                "I thought you said he lost it…"

                "It was returned to him… too late, but it was back. There was a moment in which I saw him again."

                Jonny looked down, avoiding her eyes. "I'm sorry." And he meant it.

                "Do you have any idea how hard it was to do what it was I did?" she said.

                There was an ample pause. "No… not yet." When he finally met her eyes again, she saw his hardened resolve.

***

                "Race! Race! Race, where are you God damn it!" Benton yelled. He strode down the hallway, sticking his head into each open door.

                "What is it, Benton?" Estella said, peering out of a door. 

                Benton smiled when he realized that it wasn't the door of the guest room he had placed her in. "Do you know where is, Estella?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle again.

                Estella smiled. "He went out, the lighthouse or something like that."

                "Thank you." He walked away. Then he stopped and turned around. "Oh, and Estella. I'm glad that you've made yourself at home." He gave her a wink and walked away.

                Outside, the sun was bright. Birdsong rose sonorously and the air smelt fresh. Benton headed for the lighthouse. The gray stone monument jutted out suddenly on the cliff. It had been there since the early nineteenth century and had fallen into a state of disrepair over the centuries. When he had purchased the land, he had repaired it. The Government had given them permission to use it, so long as he kept it working.

                Benton smiled wistfully. Once, the lighthouse had been the hub of activity. The three kids were constantly running to it to try out the latest computer games or just get into some kind of mischief. The heavy metal door swung open easily and he went up the steps. The place lacked the warmth is used to have.

                "Race. Race, are you up here?" Benton called as he plodded up the stairs.

                "Yeah, I'm up here. In the computer room."

                Benton entered the room. Race was there, in front of the large plasma screen watching something. No, not something, they were video files of something. 

                "Jessie's old files," Race said. "I decided to see if she had any files saved up here on Jonny's progress. Evidently she did and they weren't even hidden, at least not squirreled away. They were just there in plain sight. Guess she never thought that any of us would check the files."

                "So, that's…"

                "Jonny, yes. A you can see, you've got some kid." Race stepped back a little to allow Benton to watch the screen fully.

                "These are simulations, right?" Benton questioned, as he saw Jonny deliver a lightning fast kick to the head of a dark figure, before snapping his elbow into the solar plexus of another. His movements were fluid, effortless as he disabled foe after foe and reduced each to dust.

                Race nodded. "They turned this place into a training ground. My guess is they used the holographic projector to simulate all the action.

                Benton nodded, never taking his eyes off the screen. The simulation had ended and Jessie stepped into view. She handed Jonny a bottle of water and tossed him a towel. Jonny toweled off his bare torso and handed back the bottle after taking a long swig.

                "Ready?" Jessie's voice came out, soft and shrill through the speakers.

                Jonny flashed her a thumbs-up. Another simulation began, this one more punishing than the last as there was an added hazard of uneven terrain.

                "There are nearly fifty of these video files," Race reported.

                Benton nodded, somewhat numbly. He couldn't help feeling a sense of awe. And pride. The same pride he had felt when Jonny had played at his first junior league game.              

                "What did you want with me, doc?" Race raised an eyebrow.

                "I want in, Race."

                "In on what?" Race shook his head, not understanding.

                "I want in on this Slayer business."

                "No can do, Benton. Too risky. Corbin will have my ass…"

                "Let him try. This is my son we're talking about! I want to be involved!"

                "It's not an option, doc," Race tired persuading but he stopped when he saw Benton waving his protest away imperiously.

                "Do you not understand, Race. I AM in on this, regardless of anything."

                Race understood. He saw the iron will in the other man's eyes. He nodded. "In secret," he added.

                "Of course."

To be continued…

Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com


	8. Chapter 8: Strength, Courage & Wisdom

From                       : Chihuahua

Date                        : 4th May 2003

Disclaimer              : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category                : A, JJ-HR, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating                    : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note       : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

**CHAPTER 8: STRENGTH, COURAGE & WISDOM**

SUNNYDALE

                Rupert Giles plonked himself heavily onto his lazy boy, none of his usual dignified stiffness present. He couldn't give a shit what he looked like, a disheveled mess with greasy unwashed hair in a shapeless gray sweatshirt. He surveyed the landfill that had once served as a living room. For a fleeting moment, he wanted to clear up the mess, but he banished the thought as soon as the second passed. He simply couldn't find the energy.

                The clock on his mantelpiece indicated that it was three o'clock. In the morning or afternoon he couldn't really be sure. He hadn't slept at all for the past week, and the house was in a state of perpetual darkness. 

                Giles felt like a failure. Like a sodding loser! He had failed in so many things. He had failed to keep Jenny safe… he had let his guard down and Angel had killed her. In his bed. In his fucking bed! More importantly, although Giles couldn't see it that way right now, he had lost his charge. Buffy had disappeared.

                The rest were coping as well as could be expected. Even her mother, who was nearly hysterical when her daughter never went home for two days. The poor woman nearly went ballistic. He had managed to calm her somewhat, but what else was a mother to do but worry? 

                Willow was still in her self-blame phase, reasoning that it had been her fault that she had not been able to perform the soul-restoring ritual faster. Xander had seemed to lose some of that zest in life, moping about like a chimp in a cage. Even Cordelia seemed to have been affected in some profound way. Sure she was still a bitch, but she was a much nicer one. It was as if her close encounter with danger had heightened her appreciation of life.

                Then, there was him. The lousy loser! He who had always prided himself for having any situation under control. Because of his arrogance, the woman he had loved was dead, a Slayer had died; Kendra rest her soul, the rest of his friends had been injured and his charge had disappeared in the wake of her ex-lover's bloody wave.

                Angel… that name filled him with such hatred now. No, not hatred, he couldn't hate him. But he felt such anger surging through him, tingling at every nerve. 

                Giles sighed again for the umpteenth time of the day. He hated the rankness than permeated from himself, the odor of greasiness. Scotch weighed heavily on his breath, the smoky taste still ingrained in his brain and the moment of heady lightheadedness still lingered.

                Reaching out, he grabbed his bottle of single-malt scotch and poured himself another glass. Neat, that was how he took it. Anything else was for pansies! Of course 'normal' Giles would never have thought that way, but he was a man fueled solely by liquor now.

                His doorbell rang, an offensive intrusion to his solitude. Giles didn't budge from his position, staring blankly at the ceiling, willing his visitor away.

                No such luck. The bell jangled loudly again, a more persistent tone this time. And again. And again!

                "Sod off!" Giles raged, his voice raspy from the dryness of his throat. 

                "Giles, open up. It's me, Willow!" the voice called, coming through muffled. 

                "I know bloody well, who you are. Now, just go!" he screamed. He could almost see her timid demeanor disappearing, taken over by hurt. Once, he would have cared, not now though. Too much weighed on his mind, his heart sunken into a trench too deep to fathom.

                There was a moment of silence, and then he heard the front door latch being removed and the lock twisting. Damn that witch!

                Willow marched into the house and stormed into the living area. She wrinkled her nose in disdain at the foulness of the air. 

                "Giles. Get up!" she commanded. Xander entered behind her, his eyebrows shooting up when he saw the state of the place.

                "You really did a number on this place, huh?" he said, whistling to enunciate his awe. 

                "Xander…" Willow hissed warningly, pointing a finger at him. 

                Xander's hands immediately shielded his crotch area. "No funny business there," he said, a tinge of fear evident in his voice. Willow had used that threat often enough, and Xander did not want to test the validity of it.

                Giles glared at the both of them. He struggled to his feet and glowered over both of them. "I told you two to leave."

                "Make us," Willow challenged. Her eyes flashed angrily. She had never looked more beautiful, Giles thought. Her rage seemed to bring out the intensity of her auburn hair.

                Giles took an unsteady step towards them and stopped. He knew he would stumble and fall with his next step.

                "I thought so." Willow stepped forward and touched his arm gently. "Giles, you've got to snap out of it."

                "Why should I? What if I don't want to?" he cried, sounding every bit like the ten year old he felt like.

                "We need you. We need your guidance now, after all that has happened…" she trailed off,  not caring to elaborate. Partly for him, partly because she did not want to relive the painful memory.

                Xander stepped up now. "You're the G-man… we need you around… with all your English bookishness."

                Giles glared at the boy. "I told you never to call me that!" he warned. Then he smiled, a ghost of the former Giles. "I'm not sure if I can…"

                "You can, it's just a matter of whether you will," Willow pushed on. 

                "I've got a lot of things on my mind right now, Willow."

                "Like what?"

                "Like cleaning up my place. It's still a mess and…"

                Willow didn't bother listening to his whole explanation. Waving her hands in the air and chanting softly, she raised several objects into the air. Giles' glass smashed into a wall. "Sorry," she said.

                "I'll clear up myself if you don't mind," Giles said. "The old-fashioned way."

                Willow smiled apologetically. "Sorry about the glass."

                Giles waved the apology away. "I'll meet you all at the library this evening. Let me get myself together first."

                "My God, what the hell died in here anyway?" a shrill voice called as the rapid fall of high heels clicked imperiously on Giles's hardwood floor.

                Willow rolled her eyes.

                "Cordy, ever the punctual one. It's okay, Giles has agreed to clean up… before he is evicted by the roaches." Xander cringed a little, as a dull ache throbbed in his broken arm. The cast was a hindrance; he had never wanted to scratch something so much!

                "Whatever!" Cordy said, her pretty face still a mask of disdain. She zeroed her glance in on Giles. "You sure you don't want any help? I could send Martha… you'll have to pay her of course but…"

                "Thank you very much for the kind offer, Cordelia, but I'm sure I'll be able to cope." Giles smiled wanly. He cleared his throat. "Now, as I was saying, I'll meet you all later at the library…"

                "Say no more, G-Man. We're already gone," Xander piped up cheerfully, tugging Cordy with him and signaling for Willow to follow. 

                The front door closed, and their footsteps faded away. Giles slumped back into his chair, feeling somewhat deflated. But he no longer felt defeated. The kids had done him more good than he wanted to give credit for.

                Once again anger passed through him. He was pissed off. At Buffy this time! He realized that he had been mad at her all the while. She had convinced them to trust Angel. She had turned him evil again. She ran away, abandoning her responsibility to them all. To the world. She had no right!

                As suddenly as it came, his rage dissipated. He couldn't blame her for trusting Angel, he had not been entirely against it either, and Angel had come through enough times to have earned his trust. As for turning Angel, it had been a declaration of love between the two. He didn't blame her for fearing dying alone. He had woken up in cold sweat enough times from such a fear. But he couldn't find it in himself to forgive her for running away. That remained a selfish act.

                He got up, fueled by resolve. While she was AWOL, Sunnydale needed protection. If she wasn't here for it, then he would have to step up…

                He began to reorganize his coffee-table, straightening the magazines and books.

***

KUALA LUMPUR, MALAYSIA

                Seth wiped the sweat of his brow, cursing the heat. The humidity was in the high eighties as usual and that definitely didn't help the situation. Throngs of people hurried past him as he loitered mindlessly down Jalan Bukit Bintang.   
                It never ceased to amaze him how many people frequented this street. No wonder it was a shopping haven! But today, he wished that they would all just disappear and leave him alone. He paused momentarily, surveying the row of shopping complexes that lined the street on one side. KL Plaza or Sungai Wang Plaza?

                He decided against Sungai Wang Plaza… too smoky. He hated it when people didn't have the common courtesy to stop puffing away in air-conditioned spaces. Stupid assholes! He thought viciously, almost consciously restraining himself from flooring the Malay bloke who had just blown a gust of foul smelling smoke into his face. _Bangsat_!_ He thought viciously._

                The shrill ringing of his cell phone shattered the monotony of his lazy Saturday afternoon. Shifting his paper bags skillfully to his other hand, he reached into his pocket and drew the small contraption.

                _Mom. "Yeah, mom," he said in standard response. He nodded his head unconsciously as she prattled on. His face showed his displeasure._

                "Why now?" he demanded. He listened for her response, more of an obligation than anything else. "Yeah, yeah! I know! It's my bloody responsibility!" He terminated the call before she could say anymore. Anything important had been shared.

                He looked over at the Malay guy who had stopped just a few feet away to light a new stick. Muttering softly and sweeping his hand over, the cigarette combusted instantly, leaving the man with burnt fingers.

                Seth smiled a twisted smile of pleasure as he heard the man's shouts of pain. _Idiot! _

                He would have to pack. He had been prepared for the worst… five years ago! Now that he had settled nice and comfy in the country he had was born in, he had to leave again.

                Shaking away his thoughts, he marched right into Sungai Wang Plaza. More cigs to incinerate there!

***

MAINE

                "So, you found the origins of the Destined?" Race enquired, knitting his eyebrows when he saw the pile of books on the table.

                Benton nodded. "Most of it is in this journal, so helpful bits and pieces are scattered about the various Watcher's journals."

                Hadji seemed uneasy, as if disturbed by something. He fingered the spine of a book delicately, running his long fingers over the cracks. 

                "What's with you, Hadji?" Race asked, turning his attention to him.

                "I don't know how to describe it… but it's a feeling that is… well, intangible. I can feel it. Its presence is saturated in the air… and yet I do not know what it is."

                "Have you been able to contact Jonny?" Benton asked, turning his weary expression onto Hadji too.

                "No." The answer was curt. In fact, he had not tried lately. Hadji hated to acknowledge it, but resentment was slowly creeping into his soul. He had been left to cope with two emotionally distraught men in the wake of a family tragedy. He did not feel that he had the strength to continuously try to communicate with his brother who had absented himself in such a selfish manner. In short, Hadji was beginning to feel used.

                "He'll come back soon… when he's ready," Race offered, and even he could hear his own disbelief.

                "Have you contacted I-1 about the Destined, Race?" Benton asked pointedly.

                Race nodded. "They said that they'll get back to me about the desired data and documents."

                "Call them again tomorrow… I want the files over here in two days. Max!"

                "Why do you want all that info for, doc?"

                "I need to know more about this. I need to know… everything. I do not want Jonny to fall just like that. He will maximize his existence."

                There was an ample moment of silence as each man regarded the other with some level of respect. 

                "I guess there's nothing we can do until I-1 gets back to us," Race said, getting up. He left the room, stretching his arms.

                Hadji got up silently and proceeded to follow suite. 

                "Hadji." Benton's voice stilled him. He turned to regard his father. Benton looked at his son, studying his deep features for a moment. Then, pulling him into a hug, he said, "I'm sorry."

***

SAN FRANCISCO

                Chinatown was teeming with people. The streets were brightly lit, the roads slick from the previous rain. The sweet scent of boiling ginseng and ginger permeated the air, fragrant aromas of roast meats and Chinese dishes overpowering even the smoke of the various vehicles. The noise level was amazing; people chatting over Mushu pork and noodles, hawkers hollering for customers and the irregular honks of impatient vehicles. 

                Above all, Jessie could smell blood. The sweet inviting scent of fresh blood was heavy and heady. She was alone tonight, separated from the rest. She tossed her red hair behind her shoulders and continued to walk down the crowded sidewalks, avoiding the running children. Several times she was tempted to rip their throats open to slake her thirst.

                Each time she stopped herself. Because she didn't want to be discovered. Because her soul did not permit her to do so.

                The streets were less crowded now. She had passed the majority of the crowd, and there was only an occasional pedestrian now. This part of the city was also less brightly lit. Less festive. Less alive.

                "Jessie!" she heard him call.

                Spinning around, she saw his slender silhouette approaching. 

She ran.

He followed. 

She heard him calling her. Heard his approaching footsteps, heard his pace matching hers, outpacing hers. Then, it was over. She was cornered in a dead-end.

                "End of the road, Jess." His tone was cold. "No more running. No more hiding. No more games. It ends now."

                She took a fighter's stance, feet slightly apart and hands poised for either shielding or attacking. She grimaced when she saw him striking a similar poise.

                "You can't kill me, Jonny," she taunted. "You don't have the heart to. Not while I can do this," she continued. "Help me, Jonny. Save me." She smiled a savage grin when she saw the effect her words had on him.

                "Shut up!"

                "Why? Can't take it?"

                "Just shut up!"

                "Make me. Fight me!"

                Jonny took the first offensive, leaping in with an aerial drop kick. Jessie dodged it easily, and struck with a hard uppercut. The blow struck Jonny in the ribs just as he planted a hard knee in her abdomen. The both of them fell back, reeling slightly, but not enough to slow them down. Jonny's next low roundhouse caught her unaware and she fell. 

                Combining the grace of a dancer and the power of the fighter she was, she rolled out of the way and whipped her long legs in a wide arc, taking him down with a scissor motion. They both flipped back onto their feet at the same time, as if in some strange brutal ballet.

                Each blow was parried and dodged by the other, an occasional blow catching the other unaware. The attacks were rapid fire in succession, each trained fighter not letting up or giving up. The passion was not absent as they squared off over and over again.

                "Give it up, Jonny! You can't hurt me."

                "And why is that?"

                "You're still making this personal."

                "I'm hitting my girlfriend. My best-friend. It is personal!"

                "Not to me it isn't!" she snarled back, landing a heavy backhand to his face. Her fist came back bloody. She had probably broken his nose. She laughed. He reeled in pain, but the hurt was deeper than the physical damage she had just inflicted.

                "You know what your problem is, Jonny?" she taunted, dodging a high kick. There was no reply. "You don't fight dirty!" She cart wheeled aside and picked up the lid of a dustbin. Taking a quick aim, she threw it like a Frisbee, watching it catch Jonny full in the ribs. He doubled over, blood dribbling off his nose.

                Striding over, she kicked him in the head, flipping him over with the sheer force. He fell, bloody and beat up. But not defeated.

                He rolled away, getting to his feet with some struggle. No good. A hard kick to the midsection sent him bouncing off a concrete wall. Jonny moaned as he felt his arm being wrenched, flipping him onto his back. She sat astride him, one hand pinning his hands down above his head.

                Then he saw it. Jessie. Not the demon that had inhabited her, but her soul looking sadly at him. "You must end this, Jon," she said softly. "For the both of us."

                He spat out a gob a bloodied spit to the side. "I…"

                "You must!" she insisted. "This is what I am now. I'm not Jessie anymore!" She vamped out and planted a kiss on him. 

On his neck. 

When she moved away, her lips were bloody. "Just so you remember."

                With that, she was gone. 

                Jonny stumbled back to the motel. His wounds were mostly superficial, amazingly considering all the thrashing he had been through. His nose had stopped bleeding but it still ached. No, it just hurt. He brushed away some old blood, watching the flakes flutter to the ground.  Blood.

                He touched his neck gently, felt the twin punctures. She had bitten him, not to drain him, or change him. "Just so you remember," she had said.

                He remembered. 

                There was no hot water, as usual, for the shower. He just stood there under the torrent of cold water, his every fiber aching from the fight. The cuts and grazes stung as the water flowed over them. He stood there till the water ran clear. He stepped out of the shower, and checked the time. Nearly five. He had wandered the streets for several hours before he returned, a bloody wreck. 

                He pulled on a tank top, wishing he had something else to cover the wounds with. He didn't want Buffy to know. The black drawstring pants he had worn the night before would do just fine. 

                Jonny moved carefully to his duffel and dug deep for the scrap of paper. The scrap with the instructions for unbinding a soul. The spell was fairly easy to perform, and he had it memorized by now. He had held back all this while, hoping that there might be a way to bring her back. He knew now that there wasn't. He would have to kill her. First things first, he would have to free her. Only then would he kill her.

He lay down at his usual spot with some difficulty. Less than an hour to sunrise. He would have to head for work then.

                Buffy heard him shuffle in. Saw him bleeding. Watched him drift off to a troubled sleep. She didn't say a word. She knew he didn't want any advice or anything now. Quietly, she let him go about. She saw a resolve in his features as he drifted off. 

                What she didn't understand was why Jessie couldn't control the demon if she still had a soul. The way Angel did. Why didn't she fight back? Too many questions, too few answers.

                Things were beginning to be strange lately. The vampires encountered each night seemed to be better armed, fighters in their own right. As if they were being trained. Secondly, the influx of vampires had not led to the rise of dead bodies. It was as if the bodies were being stored. 

Or worse, turned.

                She turned away. Jonny's tortured expression still haunted her.

***

MAINE

                Hadji felt himself being pulled away from his fitful sleep. In a way, he was relieved to be dragged away from the macabre world of demonology. And yet, there was an underlying sense of uneasiness as he continued to drift away from familiar territory. He seemed to fall through a haze, his surroundings completely engulfed in a mist that was quite unlike any which he had seen before. It was denser than a fog, somewhat heavier as it eddied about languidly, like smoke on a still day. 

                He was drawn to it, and yet he feared it. Where was he and how was it that he was here?

                "I brought you here, Hadj," Jessie's voice replied, a response to his thoughts.

                "Jessie?" he exclaimed in recognition. "Is that you?"

                She seemed to materialize out of thin air, appearing next to him. Hadji leapt away, more in shock than in fright.

                "You're dead!" he cried, not allowing himself to hear the fear in his voice. He tried several cleansing breaths to regain his calm.

                "I know that, Hadj," Jessie teased, rolling her eyes. "But it is me. I'm speaking to you."

                "But how can you? You're a vampire, your soul is gone… or at least it should be."

                Jessie sighed. "I bound myself to Jonny… my soul cannot leave this plane."

                Hadji nodded thoughtfully, some of his old composure returning to him.

                A moment of silence passed.

                "Why can't you fight the demon?" Hadji asked expectantly. 

                "I've tried… so many times you can't imagine. Every conscious moment is a struggle. But my soul is just bound to Jonny, it can't leave this plane, but it has nowhere else to go, so it's still in me." She paused, and continued when she was satisfied that he understood. "It's not so much part of me than it is trapped here. The demon will always win in the end… I have only short bursts of control."

                "Is there a way to bind your soul to your body then?"

                She nodded again. "But I don't want to, Hadj. I don't want to go back to that body. I don't want to live its guilt. I want to be free again." She stopped, tears streaming down her face. "I know it's selfish, but I just want to move on! Get away from it"

                He pulled her into a hug. "Shh… don't cry. It's not selfish. It's right." He stroked her hair. His heart ached for them; his brother and her. What had they done to deserve a separation like this? In was cruel and unfair!

                She pulled away after a while. "Thank you, Hadj."

                He looked puzzled. "For what, Jessie?"

                "For being there all those times. For still being here."

                "It's not a big thing."

                She smiled. "You don't have to be around here, you know. Constantly surrounded by chaos and disorder. You could be in Bangalore, being all sultan-ish and all."

                "Jessie," Hadji said, turning her to look at him. "Whatever it is, my family comes first. You're my family."

                Another wan smile. "It'll be goodbye soon, Hadj. I won't be able to see you when it comes."

                "I'll know it when your freedom comes."

                "Thanks." She pulled him into a tight hug. "I love you, Hadj! Tell Mom and Dad, please."

                "And you know that I love you too." He returned her embrace, his own tears running down his cheek. "Always."

                "Always."

                Hadji opened his eyes. His tears were still hot against his cheek. His senses still tingled.

***

SUNNYDALE

                Sunnydale High Library. The air was thick, musty with mildew. The odor of books was heavy. Giles opened up the book cage where he kept his entire arsenal of crossbows, daggers, swords and some sharp stakes. 

                "Cool axe, Giles!" Xander exclaimed, making a move to remove the impressive looking weapon from its stand.

                "Don't touch that." The words carried enough menace for Xander to withdraw, a little hurt. 

                Giles's expression softened. "It's heavy, that's all. And potentially lethal!"

                "Gotcha G-Man!" Xander chirped, enjoying the look of frustration on the Watcher's face.

                "Why are we here again?" Cordelia whined.

                "Cor, you have to stop using that line. It makes you sound like a poodle!" Xander smiled impishly.

                "So, what's the plan, Giles?" Willow asked, ignoring the banter between Xander and his newfound and highly unlikely girlfriend- Cordelia!

                "I have to patrol tonight, just to keep the numbers of vamps in check," he deadpanned.

                Willow nodded. "I'm in."

                "You certainly are not!" Giles sputtered, hands on his hips.

                "Yes I am! You're gonna need some help… with the slaying and all. I can help… do something…"

                "You'll be a liability, Willow," Giles reasoned.

                "I haven't been a liability so far. And I won't let you out by yourself. You could be killed!"

                Giles looked mildly indignant although he realized the truth in her words. "I can handle vampires, thank you very…"

                "Don't get huffy now, Giles," she pleaded. "We all need to stick together on this."

                Her emphasis was clear and Giles felt his resolve melting. He nodded. "But you must keep back. Only come out during the direst of moments."

                "Fine." But he knew she wouldn't.

                "We're coming too!" Xander broke in.

                "Xander…!" Cordelia's petulant whine cut him off.

                "Fine… I'm coming. Just let me drop, Princess C here off at her stately manor first."

                "You're not going anywhere without me," Cordelia protested. "Your arm is still broken, and I don't trust you with these two!" She pointed a manicured nail at his cast. "No offense," she said, looking at Willow and Giles.

                Willow just shrugged, knowing that Cordelia just wanted to help.

                "None taken, I assure you," Giles said curtly. "It's against my better judgment, but if you are to follow me tonight, I would suggest that you select your weapon of choice now."

                Xander rubbed his hands together, his exuberance a façade that was transparent to Willow. He reached for the axe and hefted it from the stand. The axe clanged heavily on the ground, barely missing his foot. Slightly shaken, he carefully replaced it and reached for a crossbow instead. "Not my type of weapon," he offered, somewhat shame-faced.

                Willow pulled a couple of stakes and a vial of holy water off the rack and placed them into her sling bag.

                They all looked expectantly at Cordelia. Making a face, she picked up a sharp knife with a serrated blade.

                Giles pulled out a second crossbow and two bags of bolts. He handed one to Xander. "Aim for the heart."

                "Right-o!"

                The fight was a messy one. Four of them against a single vampire, and the odds were against them. The vampire had Xander pinned against a wall and was about to sink his fangs into Xander's throat when a bolt struck him in the arm.

                Distracted momentarily, the vampire loosened his grip on the boy, just enough for Xander to fire a bolt straight to its unbeating heart. There was a loud whoosh as it disintegrated into dust.

                "That was close," Xander said, making a show of dusting himself off.

                "Indeed," Giles concurred. He picked up the used bolt and stored it in his bag.

                A stake suddenly zipped past Giles's head and struck something with a wet thud. They all turned to see a vampire looking surprised before vaporizing as well.

                "Way to go, Will!" Xander whooped, flashing a thumb-up at the witch. 

                "This is pointless," Cordelia said, none of her usual whine in her voice. "We've killed two vamps in three hours, and gotten our asses thrashed already."

                "A lot of help, you were," Giles commented dryly.

                "Yeah, thanks for the vocal dynamics, Cor," Xander said, then backing away as he received a withering glare.

                "I was injured!" she protested, rubbing at an imaginary bruise on her arm. Truth was she had sustained a minor graze on her shin where she had fallen on when the first vampire has shoved her aside.

                "Well, there will be more tonight," Giles said, pointing north. The cemetery was a deep blue in the moonlight, the regularly placed tombstones a shining silver like coins in a display case.

                They didn't have to patrol long. Their encounter came in the next five minutes. The vampire was a newborn, desperately in bloodlust. She was savage, battering them mercilessly. With a snarl that shook Willow's nerve, she leapt at her. Willow went down with the attack, her hands pushing with all her strength.

                Xander and Giles leapt in to assist but were thrown back with a single swipe. Cordelia clumsily stabbed the dagger at the vampire's back.

                It shrieked and jerked away, a clawed talon tearing at Cordy. Willow fumbled for the bottle of holy water and smashed it into the vampire's face. The glass cut her palms but she did not care. Bits of burnt flesh fell off the vampire's sizzling face.

                Before she could plunge a stake into its heart, Giles released a bolt from his crossbow that struck its target straight on. Willow choked at the dust, realizing with revolt that she was breathing in dead flesh.

                She struggled to stand, still gasping for air. "Thanks," she mumbled to Cordelia.

                The girl was too busy inspecting the claw marks on her arm. "No problem," her reply was tight.

                Giles knew that the girl was close to tears, and he respected her courage. More than he ever had. He picked up the dagger and dropped it into his bag. "Let's go home. We have done enough for a night."

                The sad party trooped off, a battered and bruised company of warriors.

***

MAINE

                Kick. Side kick. Elbow strike. Axe kick. Punch. Lower punch. Palm strike. Roundhouse kick. Mule kick. Scissor takedown.

                Each file was identical to Benton, and yet they were different. Jonny seemed to relish the kill as he struck out each foe, one after the other. He sustained a few hits, but his blows hardly ever missed and he was always victorious.

                _My boy, he thought with some pride. He watched as his son triumphed once more over the simulated villains that Jessie had set up. Of course these were just simulations. Who knew how much harder reality was? Who knew how brutal each fight was?_

                Knee strike. Back thrust. Uppercut. Swinging backfist. Five consecutive punches to the ribs. Twin knifehands. The barrage was endless. This was all he had for now.

                You think you would know someone, living with them all your life. Raising them.

                He had been completely wrong. He had never seen this destiny for his son. He had never even considered this lifestyle. It had all been a myth to him. None of this would've been real, if he'd his way. None!

                But it was real. The images flashing by the screen were real. Not real-time, but real enough. 

                Benton rubbed his eyes. They were sore from his viewing the files for hours on end. Each time, he would argue that he just wanted to watch one more file. Each time he would repeat the file, mesmerized by the fluidity and power Jonny displayed. Each time wishing he had known. Wanting to help.

                There was the scuffle of feet on stone as someone ran up the stairs. Race entered the room, urgency evident in his expression. 

                "I-1 called back. They're on vid phone. Want me to transfer the call here?" Race said, marching up behind the doc.

                Benton nodded. "Okay."

                "IRIS, transfer call 015 to Lighthouse."

                "AFFIRMATIVE, CALL TRANSFERRED." The screen playing the clips flickered off and was replaced by the image of a heavyset man in military uniform.

                "Good morning, Dr. Quest." The greeting was polite enough, but Benton felt an underlying current of dislike. He didn't mind, the feeling was mutual, as it was public enough.

                Benton nodded in return, but did not offer any pleasantries of his own. "Do you have the files I've requested for, Corbin?" His tone was all-business.

                "We'd appreciate it if you stayed out of this affair, Dr. Quest. For your own safety and for the good of the American public."

                "I did not ask for a plea bargain, I requested to know if you have the files in question," Benton replied in a courteous tone, but his words were clipped.

                "Your son is an amazing asset to us, and we cannot allow information about him to freely transferred," Corbin said, his tone an exact imitation of the doc's.

                "Thank you for your assessment of my son's great value."

                "In fact, you were not ever supposed to know this much, Dr. Quest," Corbin said, his words pointed.

                "Am I that stupid then?" Benton said smoothly.

                "What I mean is that it is against typical protocol for others to know about the Destined's existence, what more know the identity of the Destined. Only our operatives were ever meant to have that kind of information."

                "There have been unusual circumstances, Commander," Race interrupted, trying to avoid an ugly confrontation.

                "So I've heard. I'm sorry to hear about the death of your daughter, Bannon." His tone was uniform, devoid of an emotion. An automaton could have given a more heartfelt speech.

                "Thank you." Race's fists were clenched so tight that the skin on the back of his hands looked as if it would tear. 

                "I will need to speak to Jonny," Corbin changed the subject, skirting around Benton's demands.

                Benton looked puzzled for a second and ticked a glance over at Race who looked away.

                _He didn't tell them. He couldn't…_

"Jonny is unavailable right now… but I would very much appreciate it if you would tell me what this is about." Again with the curt and civil tone.

                Corbin looked defeated. "You already know my answer to that, Dr. Quest."

                "And given your level of intelligence, you would know mine too."

                Race wanted to run and scream. This strained atmosphere was driving him nuts. On one hand, he knew that he owed his allegiance to I-1 and the big fight, but on the heavier hand, he wanted to side up with Benton and cheer him through.  He watched the strained expression on Corbin's face, watched the man struggle for composure. Now, he wanted to laugh. So much power in one guy… the doc had made Corbin squirm again.

                "Dr. Quest, surely you…"

                "I'm not sure about anything right now, Corbin. Good-day," Benton cut him off. "IRIS, terminate call 015 now!" The screen went blank for a second, and the video feeds of Jonny's training reappeared. 

                Benton looked at Race. "But I'm sure about this," he said, motioning to the screen. Race nodded.

                Hadji opened his eyes, his posture going lax for a moment. He let out a deep breath, and felt the rigid tension slow out of him. The gloom of his room came back to focus. "He's going to do it," he intoned, to no one in particular. He folded his legs again and resumed his meditative calm. But he felt awash with emotion.

                Hadji prayed. Hard.

***

SAN FRANCISCO

                Jonny uncurled his legs, stretching them for a moment before raising himself to his feet. He felt calm, powerful. He touched his neck and grimaced. They had healed, but the punctures had left scars.

                _Ironic, all I have left are scars._

                He looked over his shoulder. "Ready?"

To be continued…

Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com


	9. Chapter 9: Get It Done, Do It Right

From                       : Chihuahua

Date                        : 8th June 2003

Disclaimer              : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category                : A, JJ-HR, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating                    : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note       : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

**CHAPTER 9: GET IT DONE… DO IT RIGHT**

ASHQELON, A.D. 455

                "Are you sure it's here?" Prumiva glanced about the richly decorated chamber. Antius certainly had put his money to good use. She ran a talon down a rich Moroccan tapestry, feeling the delicate silks that frayed under her touch.

                Daerian grunted in response. "I know I've seen it here before… somewhere." He continued to rifle through Antius's neatly kept prized scriptures. 

                "The _Codex _Aeternus___ Nox Noctis, in the hands of a Watcher!" she exclaimed. "Such an irony."_

                "The Book of Eternal Darkness," Daerian echoed, his eyes searching for the desired volume. 

                "Why would a Watcher be appointed such a powerful text, I have no idea…"

                Daerian stopped his search. "It isn't here, not anymore."

                Prumiva glowered at him. "What do you mean, it's gone? You said it was here…"

                "Exactly, it was. And this will show us where it is now!" Daerian grinned, handing her a small parchment he had retrieved from a pile of journals."

                Prumiva unfolded the parchment and her hideous grin flashed in the dim light. "A map. I must say that your Watcher was very kind."

                "You know where it is?"

                "From this map, yes. He was a very good mapmaker." She tossed her raven ringlets and motioned for Daerian to follow her. As they made it out of the exit, the rest of Prumiva's unholy brethren joined them from the various chambers of the Watcher's vast compound. They wiped their bloody lips, licking at their fingers to savour every last drop of blood. The household had been purged of all life; every single last living person had been drained. The servants lay about in a disorderly manner, strewn about on the stone floors like carcasses on a Saharan landscape. 

                Prumiva held a torch high, careful to keep it away from herself as she swept through the catacombs below the city. Daerian marched at her side, her only company down here in the dank darkness. The flame of the torch danced in the darkness, the faint undercurrent toying with it. Its light seemed to be swallowed by the impermeable gloom. The ground was hard, dry. Water had not touched it for a long time, if not forever. There was no life, but the taste of death was thick, balmy and musky. He smelt death, tasted it, felt it and couldn't tell neither taste nor feel from the other. It was all the same, bleak. 

                He followed the faint orb of light as Prumiva walked confidently down the ancient tunnels. The city of Ashqelon had been destroyed and rebuilt many times over the centuries. Before the Romans, there had been Alexander the Great, the father of Hellenistic culture. And before that, the Phoenicians, his ancestors, had raised the city of Ashqelon from the ashes after its destruction by the Babylonians. Before the destruction, the Philistines had prospered after taking the city away from the Canaanites, the nomadic founders. All this was told through stories, passed down solely by word of mouth. Walking down these tunnels, he now knew that at least some of what he had been told during his life was true. The walls that held the ceiling up were ages old, the carvings and architecture unrecognizable today. 

                Prumiva saw his awe and recognized it as an expression of deference. "These corridors you walk through now were constructed when the nomads planted their roots here. The Canaanites, like all great conquerors had one fear, captivity. They built these catacombs that would enable more of their officials to escape should a sudden siege come upon them." She snickered. "Cowards, and yet they were wise."

                "How did you know about this place?" His voice still carried the tone of wonderment.

                "I was their queen." She continued her lead. Her luxurious hair spilled down her back like black water cascading down a fall. "Your Watcher's map simply refreshed my memory on where the entrances were. Nosey man, wasn't he?" 

                Daerian stayed silent. He saw that she had stopped and he halted by her side. They had come to the end of a tunnel and a gaping darkness yawned at them. The torch seemed like only a pinprick of light here.

                "I was also a sorceress," she said, stepping into the darkness. "Iluminar!" she commanded, and they were engulfed by a flash of blinding light. The hollow _whump__! of torches being lit simultaneously filled the space as torches everywhere came to life, lighting the chamber._

                Daerian stared this time. The corridors and halls he had walked through were nothing compared to what he witnessed now. The walls stretched upwards in vast expenses, and the chamber was immense. Each wall was illuminated by several hundred torches, each one casting its dancing light to fight the shadow. 

                "How deep are we?" he asked, stepping around a sculpture of a hideously deformed being. 

                "A hundred feet below the settlements of the Canaanite kingdom." Her answer was short as she marched to the center of the large space.

                "What is this place?" Daerian was fixated upon a large mural that seemed to stretch on forever from where he stood to the unseen heights above.

                "The beginning. This is where it all began. Good and evil. Evil and good. We could sit around for centuries debating which came first, but the truth is, they're both one and the same. Good cannot exist without evil, and evil is non-existent without good. Everything is balanced." She motioned with her hand, pointing all around. "This space has existed since the dawn of life."

                "How did…?"

                "The Canaanites dug their tunnels, and they found this place by accident. The tunnel to this place was sealed and the place deemed cursed."

                "But the tunnel wasn't blocked on the way here," Daerian pointed out, still avidly studying the carvings and drawings.

                Prumiva smiled. "I rerouted it, blocked the other tunnel instead. I tried to harness the powers of immortality, but to no avail. Until…" Her face morphed into its feral form. "The object of my search had disappeared though, so I had been searching for it all this while."

                "The Book of Eternal Darkness…"

                "That's correct. All that was left was the Blade of Aefriol."

                "What?"

                Prumiva pointed at a beautiful katana that hung suspended in the chamber. The intricate sword hovered three feet off the ground, caught in a ray of pure white light. "The Blade of Aefriol," she intoned. "Kept here by magic. Only the Destined One may wield and harness its powers."

                Daerian grinned happily. He reached out and grabbed the hilt… and was thrown across the chamber, slamming heavily against a section of a wall. He got up, sizzling and smoking all over.

                "You forget, impetuous one, that you're no longer the Destined." Prumiva's tone was mocking, her heavily kohl-lined eyes taunting him. "Even if you were, I do not assume that you would be able to wield it."

                Daerian brushed himself off and glared at her. "A warning would have been welcome," he snapped. "And what do you mean I wouldn't have been able to use it. I was the Destined!"

                Prumiva nodded condescendingly. "Of course you were. But you were not a part of the prophecy."

                "What prophecy? What stupid prophecy?" Daerian demanded.

                "That only the mirror of Aefriol could wield it. The mirror image. To quote: It is meant for only he who is the Destined mirror of Aefriol."

                "Who is this Aefriol anyway?" He was frustrated. He sensed the power of the graceful blade that lay within grasp but would never be his.

                Prumiva laughed, her laughter echoing eerily in the vaulting halls. "A Destined who has never heard of Aefriol!" she exclaimed. "My dear foolish boy, how could you've ever been the Destined One? There is so much you do not know. What did your Watcher ever teach you?"

                Apparently nothing." Daerian felt hurt. The injustice of his existence had spread to after his death. "I was never told anything more than I had to fight to keep the world safe and that my son would continue my line after my death."

                "According to legend, the first Destined was given his powers by Aefriol. Aefriol was one of the four Warriors of Light. There was a great battle, and all four fell, but before his demise, Aefriol passed his essence on to a young man, charging him with protecting the world and for his lineage to continue doing so." She paused. Daerian had drifted back to a mural and was studying it intently. "That is the depiction of the great battle that took place all those lifetimes ago."

                The mural stretched across the wall, each detail intricately chiseled and stained with hints of color. Amidst the chaos, four beings stood out, each one pure and beautiful. The mural wasn't just that, Daerian could feel their energy radiating from it. One seemed to stand out among the rest. A tan youth with flowing hair the color of the lightest sun. In his hands, the wondrous sword flashed as he raised it above his head. Even in the mural, Daerian could see the intricate carvings that decorated the blade from hilt to tip, the jeweled scabbard. 

                "Aefriol…" he whispered, gazing at the being of light. 

                "Handsome devil, wasn't he?" Prumiva interrupted his reverie.

                Daerian simply nodded. "What about the rest? Surely their weapons must have survived the fight…"

                Prumiva shook her head. "All gone with them. The Blade of Aefriol remains only because it was passed on to the Destined, and it was lost in the course of history for several centuries. Until it was discovered to have been placed in here, in this shrine."

                "Where is the book anyway?" He turned away from the mural for a second. The depiction seemed to come alive as the flames from the multitude of torches cast shadows in the grooves, the flickering light bringing the illusion of movement.

                "Over here." She stood by a podium set opposite the hovering sword. On it lay a beautiful leather-bound book covered with gilt scrip on its cover. The script was old, and it curved like ivy, tails and loops everywhere. The script was ambiguous, constantly changing its color in the light, going from pure gold to deepest night. Power, mystic energy emanated from it, so charged that even he felt afraid of the secrets it held. "After all these centuries, your Watcher was the one who returned it to its rightful place. The map was probably meant for the Council."

                "What's the significance of this book? What can we do with it?"

                "This holds the key to the past, present and…" 

                "… future," he finished. "You're going to use the magic within to destroy the world?"

                "Close enough, but very narrow-minded. This…" she raised the book off the podium, "…is the key to shaping our future."

                "What is your plan, Mistress?" Daerian fingered the spine of the book. He felt the rough texture of cracked leather, and was surprised as the book looked to be in pristine condition.

                "We will thrive in the darkness. Humanity and its light-lovers will be obliterated, turned to our purposes."

                "When?" Daerian questioned, his eyes drawn back to the mural. He was kept in awe by the sheer power that the mural possessed.

                "When the new Mouth of Hell emerges… It'll be a long wait."

                "What about him?"

                "Him?" She frowned.

                "The next Destined. What about him?"

                "He will die! And so will the next, and the one after him. We will destroy them all, one at a time, as each is called to power!"

                "We're talking about the destruction of my descendants?" he asked, scowling. Then he smiled. "That's simply brilliant! When can we start?"

                "How many women did you ever sleep with anyway?" Prumiva demanded, her blood-streaked face revealing her pleasure as she snapped the neck of yet another woman. Her handsome partner grinned as he kicked the head of the man of the house across the room, reveling in the carnage. 

                "Nearly the whole damn street I think…" he said thoughtfully. He smiled. "I was a gigolo, I bedded them for money. Gave them satisfaction they craved from their unworthy husbands. Husbands like… him," he said as he nudged the decapitated corpse.

                "How many children did you sire?" she asked, her bloody lips curling in a conspiring smile. "A lot of the women were happy to see you… emphasis on 'were'. Their poor husbands were no match for you, you stallion!"

                Daerian made a mock effort to count them with his fingers before saying, "Does it really matter? We'll kill the lot… not take any chances."

                "Point taken," she mumbled, her fangs buried in her victim's neck, a three year old boy who still struggled. She pulled back and cooed happily. "Such strength and vigor! He takes after his father." Then she dashed the child's head on the wall and left the crumpled body on the floor.

                "What do we do with the bodies? Leave them here?"

                "Do whatever you want."

                "What about the infants?" he asked, pointing at the cartful of sleeping babies.

                "Abandon them someplace… they're helpless anyway! How can they survive without their mothers?"

                "I know just the place." His feral expression was horrible as he left the house in the bloody mess he had helped create. Just like all the others they had visited. No one had dared to stop them, the entire brethren of vampires slaking their thirst on the blood of the families they killed.

                "Where would that be?"

                "The sewers. Beneath the bathhouse."

                "Dark, damp, festering with disease and rats… I like it. We'll dump the whole load there, alive of course. And then… no more Destined. No more worries."

LONDON, 1990 

                "This is the Destined One?" Daerian bellowed, tossing the warrior against the wall. The brick wall collapsed, the broken bits scattered everywhere. 

                Simon Telcar struggled to his feet, assuming his standard fighting stance. He lunged forward with a stomp kick, his heel catching Daerian full in the chest, sending the vampire reeling. He followed up with three heavy jabs to the ribs before striking the throat with twin knife hands. 

                Daerian shoved him back and kicked him in the face. "Destined indeed. Can hardly hold his own against me…!" He slugged the Destined One in the face and landed a powerful swing kick to the man's solar plexus.

                "Who the Hell are you?" Simon gasped, blocking another hard punch and countering with one of his own. Grabbing Daerian's arm, he twisted it swiftly, feeling the bone wrench out of the socket. Using the vampire's momentum against him, he flipped Daerian over onto his back before lunging in for the kill.

                His stake hit the wet cobblestone road hard, and splintered. A hard kick to the back of his head sent him sprawling on his face, the gravel cutting his cheek and biting into his palms as he pushed himself up. The filthy water stung his wound but he ignored the irritation.

                "I'm your worst nightmare, you turd!" Daerian threw back his head and howled, rain falling off his long hair in streams. He slammed his shoulder into the ruined wall of the school wall, popping his arm back into the socket and screamed in crazed pain. "Clichéd, I know, but you can't win."

                "Bollocks!" Simon snapped, pulling out another stake and launching it at his foe. Daerian caught it expertly in mid-flight, and twirled the wooden weapon in his hands, mocking the Slayer that stood before him.

                "You actually think that you can kill me with a toothpick?" 

                Simon's expression revealed his fear. He had slain hundreds, tens of hundreds of vampires, but none of them had put up a fight like this. In all his four years of slaying, he had picked them off easily, sustaining only minor injuries. This one was different… knowledgeable and very strong. "I can try," he said, his defiance a thin façade.

                "Bloody Hell! Have none of you idiots ever learnt the virtue of running away?" Daerian exclaimed. "What's there to gain from death, anyway?"

                "There is no honor in running." He lunged in with a side kick which the vampire blocked easily. Simon parried one of Daerian's punches, but took a kick to the gut.

                "Honor is overrated! There is at least wisdom in running," he said, toying with the stake he still carried. "This brings back so many old memories," he cooed, his maniacal laughter rising over the falling rain.

                "What's that supposed to mean?" Simon wiped his face, shaking the water out of his eyes. He cartwheeled forward, coming up in front of Daerian to punch his twice hard in the face, and wrenched the stake out of the vampire's grip, turned it around expertly and slammed it with all his strength… and gasped in shock as Daerian reversed the motion swiftly, turning his own strength against him and the stake punched through his own abdomen.

                Pain shot through his body as he collapsed onto the cobblestones, his shock still lingering. Blood flowed freely, running down his shirt and mixing with the dirty water, staining it a deep crimson. 

                "I told you to run." Daerian strode over to the fallen figure and pulled him up by his hair. Then he whispered, "You never had a chance. I was what you are now, or rather were since you will die."

                "Sod off…" the comeback was pained.

                "Your son will be next… and will be considerably easier. The boy is weak… at least you put up a fight."

                "Excellent work," a happy cheer came from somewhere in the dark. Simon strained his eyes to see a dark clad female form trot over, her umbrella keeping her somewhat dry. "Now, finish him off."

                "Why bother, pet? He's as good as dead."

                "So we thought then, and it was a big mistake. Another Destined was still called. Finish him off!"

                Daerian sighed and bent over the injured slayer. "No hard feelings, mate. Just got to do as the missus says." He seized the man's neck and with a quick twist, broke it. "Happy, darling?"

                "Barely. You nearly let another one off."

                "How was I supposed to know that one of them would have survived the sewers back then? That some kind-hearted soul would pick him out and nurture him. And remember, pet, it was partly your idea to prolong their suffering."

                "Whatever. Point is, we've to take care of that other boy."

                "Easier said than done, pet. He's disappeared… sent away somewhere."

                "We'll wait. Wait till they screw up. Then…" she said, curling her fingers, "… we'll end the lineage!"

SAN FRANCISCO

                "Where are we, anyway?" Buffy asked, her eyes kept intently on their surroundings. The neighborhood wasn't exactly inviting. The streetlamps that lined the street were mostly blown, the working ones flickered erratically, casting malevolent shadows everywhere. The light seemed to be swallowed up by the darkness. The buildings were rundown, mostly abandoned and falling into various stages of disrepair. In short, everything was a mess. In another, the place was totally abandoned.

                "Near them," came the reply, as Jonny concentrated harder on sensing Jessie. 

                "You would know this, how?" she asked, still eyeing about suspiciously.

                "I can sense her. We're close."

                "Oh, you can sense her, can't you?" Her voice was laden with sarcasm. "And why didn't we do this earlier? Like in daylight?"

                "She never let me before. Not like this…" He stopped, studying a corner lot that looked just dilapidated as the others. 

                "What?"

                "We're here."

                "How do you know?

                "To quote a spandex-wearing superhero, 'My Spider Sense is tingling.' The truth being I just know."

                "Where are they anyway?" Buffy peered into the darkness, trying to spot a vampire or two.

                "Underground."

                "You sure?"

                "Positive. You sense them to, don't you?" He nodded towards her drawn stake. "Put it away for now, we'll try to keep a low pro on this."

                She shrugged and slipped the stake back into her jacket. "I'm not so sure about this place, it's like walking into their territory."

                A topless male walked out of the darkness, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. Buffy's hand instinctively reached for her stake, but Jonny waved it away. Then, she noticed that the vampire's body was covered in deep wounds, gouges from talons tore their tracks deep into his flesh, chunks of skin missing. If she had to guess, she would say that the guy had just emerged from an all-out demon brawl.

                Noticing her scrutiny and mistaking it for interest, the vampire leered at her, blowing out another cloud of smoke from his dead lungs. "Nice night, eh, hunny?" he remarked. Ticking a glance at Jonny, he added, "You wanna ditch your boy an' hang wit'a real man?" He flexed a bicep thoughtfully.

                Buffy smiled her best 'I'm-such-a-bimbo' smile and sauntered over. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

                "You and me at a bar."

                She could hardly stop herself from rolling her eyes. "Sounds real fun," she quipped. "What about all those scratches?"

                "You jus' missed a good ol' brawl, missy. I knocked 'em all out!" He puffed out his chest in pride and expelled yet another foul smelling cloud of smoke.

                "There's a fight?" she asked, smiling brightly. "A ring and all?"

                He nodded, looking at her like she wasn't that bright. "You wanna come cheer?"

                She ticked a glance at Jonny, who gave her a brief nod. "No, I rather do this," she bit off, snapping off her bubbly exterior. She socked him twice in the jaw and drove her knee into his gut. Yanking her stake out, she punched him once more before driving it home. Dust.

                "So, we step in now?"

                Jonny nodded. "Nice act."

                "Who was acting?" She smiled the smile again. It disappeared. "Let's move."

                The shop inside was pretty much like the neighborhood, falling apart. The beams had nearly rotted away, dust was thick on the floor, except for a distinctive trail that led towards the back of the shop. 

                "You think they'll post sentries?"

                Jonny shook his head. "Not likely. Who's gonna come here anyway? There's no one near enough to pose a threat."

                "Quiet."

                "Not really. You hear that?" 

                "That rhythmic pounding and rumbling? Sounds like an underground club."

                "Underground fight club."

                "I'll bet the entrance is right about, here." She stopped next to a trapdoor, a ring on the floor. 

                "Looks heavy, but hey, no sweat. What's Slayer strength for anyway?" Jonny leaned over and grabbed the ring, hefted it twice to get a feel of it and yanked hard. The door fell back with him. "Damn, didn't know it was that loose."

                "Whoa… I think we just signed up for a lot of crap." 

                He understood. The noise that came from the gaping hole was loud, really loud. Cheering and thumping echoed in the empty space, shattering the silence. "I think we just found the Fight Club."

                "Cool… any chance of meeting Brad Pitt?"

                "More likely to meet Loui the vamp."

                "I'll take that too." She stepped back and peered in one more time. "Well, after you, hot shot."

                Jonny swung himself in and felt like climbing right out. The basement extended through at least 2 shops. The vast space below was filled with vampires, easily near a hundred of them. They massed around a big ring, where two vampires squared off, displaying a certain amount of aptitude of martial arts. He heard a soft scuffle as Buffy dropped down next to him. He looked over at her and smiled wanly when she mouthed _shit! _

                "You remember saying something about the sudden influx of missing persons? Well, we just found them. That's the good part. The bad part, we're gonna have to kill them all."

                "Are you kidding?" she hissed. "I suck at math, but I'm not that bad!"

                "You smell that?"

                She wrinkled her nose. "Smells like leaking gas."

                He pointed to the base of the stairs. At least a dozen tanks of gas stood in the corner of the cellar. 

                "Yeah, so? You wanna blow us up as well?"

                "That could happen, but I'm hoping to skip that part." He handed her a Zippo lighter.

                "You know, I don't really have a good record with fire… I'm sure you didn't hear about what I did to my old high school?"

                "You blew up the gym, that's why you're the girl for this."

                "What're you going to do? Fight them?"

                He grinned and winked. "Work fast."

                "You're crazy!"

                "I'm discrete."

                "Like hell you are!"

                "Don't argue, just get to work. Loosen up the valves… when I give the signal, blow us up!"

                "What's the signal…?" But he was already gone, leaping off the stairs and landing softly below. He trotted over to the congregation of vampires and made his way through the crowd. No one seemed to notice him, the fight was too engrossing.

                All around, fangs were bared as they called for blood, cheering on either fighter, or some were calling for them to kill each other. The combat was brutal, fists pulping flesh and kicks throwing each other apart.

                "Halt!" The vampires stopped at command. That voice, that aristocratic voice that concealed all that bullshit. Jonny gritted his teeth and swung his view to the source. There he was, standing in what seemed to be some kind of balcony. Beside him, his bitch preened, smiling and next to her, Jessie sat, stone-faced.

                "You've done well. But tonight, we have a special guest. A special competitor who will prove who's the better fighter." A spotlight suddenly centered on Jonny, blinding him momentarily with the glare. "We have a slayer with us tonight, a Destined One, to be more accurate." Turning his handsome face at Jonny, he smiled that annoying grin.

                All around Jonny, the vamps turned on him, getting ready to lunge at him. He pulled out his stake and prepared to do some serious damage. A foolish vampire lunged forward, and impaled itself of the sharp tip. It was dusted before Jonny pulled out the stake. 

                "Any more takers?" he yelled, snapping a kick at a vampire that had ventured too close.

                "No more!" Daerian barked. "Not yet."

                Jonny looked at him, glaring. "I can take them!"

                "I'm sure you can. But not like this." He motioned towards the ring.

                "I will not play your game!"

                "Oh you will… if you want to get out of this alive. True, you have skills but there is no way you can take a hundred odd vampires at once."

                Jonny fumed, knowing that he had no choice. Plus, he needed to give Buffy some time to set up the fireworks.  He marched towards the ring, shoving the occasional vampire that got in his way. He swung himself gracefully over the ropes that formed a crude barricade for the ring. He shrugged off his jacket and dropped in on the floor.  "Bring it on then."

                Daerian threw himself off the balcony and descended gracefully, like a swooping shadow. His dark trench billowed as he stepped forward. Gesturing towards a display rack of ornate weapons, he said, "Select your weapon of choice."

                "Got all I need right here," Jonny said, smiling cockily and twirling his stake around. "Do we play by my rules or what?"

                "What are your rules?" Prumiva said from her place.

                "Battle to the death, I take out any vampires that come close."

                Daerian nodded. "Very well, then." Three muscle-bound vamps stepped forward, but only one got into the ring. He swung a Morningstar mace, the spiky ball whipping about in deadly arcs. "Meet Jake."

                "Hi, Jake, pleased to meet you. I'm Jonny Quest, maybe you've heard of me. The Destined One?" Jonny shook his head in mock frustration. "Can we start now?"

                "Start!"

                Jake moved faster than Jonny thought was possible for a muscle-bound gorilla. In a flash, the vampire was in his face, and slamming a heavy fist into his gut. Jonny grabbed the arm and swung on it, kicking Jake hard in the face. Letting go, he punched the vampire hard and gave him a hard uppercut. Ducking a swing from the mace, he kicked the vampire in the midsection. He was thrown back by a strong shove. A mock cartwheel planted two powerful kicks in the vampires face. Leaping forward, Jonny tackled the vampire to the ground and whipped out his stake to finish him off when a pair of heavily corded arms enveloped him and crushed him with deadly force.

                Jonny wheezed, bright spots dancing across his vision as another powerful contraction forced the air out of his lungs. Jerking his head back, he smashed into the vampire's nose. Feeling the arms loosen, he whirled around and slammed a hard punch to the already pulped nose. A jumping kick snapped the vampire's neck back.

                Sensing the attack and simply allowing his instincts to react, Jonny rolled out of the way, just in time to see the Morningstar smash the skull of the other vampire. The vampire disintegrated in an instant. Looking over, Jonny saw the sword that the vampire had carried, and was relieved that he did not use it. Rolling again to avoid another devastating blow, Jonny picked up the sword and swung it in a powerful curve, catching Jake across the knees. As the vampire toppled forward, Jonny raised his sword and whipped it through; catching him across the neck and taking it clean off. A light smattering of dust fell over him.

                Jonny pulled himself to his feet. He glared at Daerian who grinned amiably back at him. "Guess we're not just playing by my rules, huh?" He clutched the sword and gave it a few test swings. "Thing's got some bite," he commented.

                Daerian nodded at the third gorilla to get in. Two smaller vampires flanked him, one male and the other female. The gargantuan ape wielded a long spear while the female clutched twin daggers and the smaller male was armed with an entire arsenal of throwing knives and shurikens. 

                "Crap!" Jonny muttered, sword at ready. The smaller male attacked first, launching two shurikens from different angles. Jonny deflected one with his sword and kicked the other jagged spinning disc. Both flew into the crowd, injuring several vampires. Not enough to kill them though.

                Spinning away from the female, he swung his sword at his biggest assailant and gritted his teeth when the blade bit into the handle of the spear harmlessly. Half-turning, he slammed a backhand into the female vamp, and kicking her legs out from under her. As she fell, he yanked the blade out of the spear and kicked the big one between his legs. Bending his knees slightly, he leapt backwards, tucking his knees to his chin as he reached the peak of his flip. He landed behind the smaller male and kicked him forward. Just as he was about to stake the vamp, he saw the big one coming at him. Full speed and very pissed.

                His moment of distraction was enough for the smaller one to roll aside and launch several throwing knives at Jonny. Jonny's neck barely cleared the knives as one nicked him in the shoulder while the other hit him square in the upper arm. Yelling in pain, he dodged the spear attack, deflecting the attack by kicking the attacker in the small of his back. Stumbling out of control, the big vampire's spear ran right through the smaller male, piercing its heart and dusting it.

                Jonny didn't have time to witness his handiwork as he swung the sword around and decapitated the approaching female vamp. Whirling around, he launched the sword at the last one, catching him in the throat. As the vampire gurgled in agony, he pulled out his stake and jammed in through. He rescued the sword before it fell to the ground.

                "It's him!" Prumiva exclaimed, her tone shocked. "The mirror of Aefriol!"

                "What are you talking about?" Jessie looked at the woman, no monster, as she trembled, watching the fight below. "Who's the mirror of Aefriol?"

                "Him!" She got up, and pulled Jessie with her. "We must get out. This is one battle that we cannot win. He is Aefriol…. And we're doomed if we stay and fight."

                "Jonny? Why are you afraid of him now?"

                "It's only now that I see him so clearly. See his strength and power."

                "That's not all that you're afraid of. What's there that scares you so?"

                "His love." She tugged Jessie again. "Come on now!"

                "No!" Jessie swung the woman against the wall, slamming her hard. "We're not going anywhere! Talk to me now!"

                "You stupid…"

                "Shut up, bitch!" Jessie spat, slapping Prumiva hard. "Tell me what I want to know. Why are you so afraid of Jonny?" The roar of the crowd was deafening below, all calling for the death of the Destined.

                "Only he can wield the Blade of Aefriol…" Prumiva gasped, pushing Jessie off. With ferocious speed, she lashed out hard with a kick that caught Jessie in the midsection and threw herself off the edge of the balcony. Jessie got up and followed, speeding after the fleeing shadow. She threw herself forward in a flying tackle, bringing Prumiva down. 

                Jessie lashed out in fury, punching the older woman in the face multiple times. Prumiva threw her off but had no time to run as Jessie launched herself at her in an all-out attack barrage. Each attack was followed with a deadly force couple with pinpoint precision. Prumiva was a fighter in her own respect and she took and gave, sparring with Jessie.

                "What is the Blade of Aefriol?" Jessie hissed, sweeping Prumiva off her feet with a quick sweeping motion.

                "That is not my biggest fear!" Prumiva cried back, clawing viciously at Jessie.

                "Then, what is?" A hard axe-kick flattened the woman again, 

                "His love for you! That's what makes him so strong. That's why it's not safe…"

                Jessie smiled. "You spineless bitch! You would leave Daerian here all alone to save your own sagging ass!"

                Prumiva slapped the girl hard. "I've lived longer than you, and roamed much longer than that. Don't you ever dare to presume my survival tactics! And my butt is not sagging!"

                Jessie lashed out with a kick, but Prumiva caught her foot deftly and used a sudden twist to throw her off balance. Then, she was off, running for the exit. Two quick bounds later and she was out. Jessie followed, only pausing momentarily to punch the Slayer once, but only enough to stun her. She understood the Slayer's mission, and she knew her own. Her soul was strong tonight, and the demon would lose.

                Jonny pulled the throwing knife out of his arm, and threw it aside. The wound smarted but he knew it wasn't that bad. He would heal fast. "You sure you wanna lose anymore of your dogs?" he asked Daerian, who was glowering where he stood. "I mean, if you're gearing towards some kinda vamp takeover, don't you need them around?"

                "True, they're all valuable, but not irreplaceable. However, you're right about one thing, I don't want to lose any more than I already have, so it's time to end this." Daerian strode towards the ring, pulling off his trench as he walked. The dark coat was tossed casually aside as he flipped into the ring.

                "Weapons, or hand-to-hand?" Jonny asked, focused.

                "How about we notch it up some more? Say, anything goes?" Daerian snarled, his face morphing to take the feral visage of a vampire. 

                Jonny looked about and saw all the scattered weapons and nodded. "Fine." He threw the sword at one of the four pillars that formed the points of the ring's perimeter. 

                "Foolish!" Daerian lunged forward, his fists hitting nothing. A kick caught him in the back of his head and he stumbled forward. Growling, he turned to face Jonny. Catching the Destined One's arm, he pulled him close, snapping his head to collide with the boy's. A backhand sent the Slayer backwards. Jonny blocked Daerian's kick and used his hands to propel his body in a helicopter motion, landing three hard kicks to the vampire's chest. Flipping back onto his feet, he blocked a sidekick with his raised knee and leaned in for a powerful elbow strike. 

                Daerian rolled backwards and yanked the sword out of the pillar. Jonny tumbled forward, catching the spear shaft as he got up. He heard the soft swish of the blade slicing sideways as he breached backwards, landing on his hands and completing the cartwheel by bringing up both legs in a powerful kick to Daerian's face. Using the butt of the shaft, he jabbed Daerian in the abdomen and swept the vampire off his feet with a powerful upward sweeping motion. He leapt at a pillar, using the strength in his left leg to push him off to first avoid a slicing motion and then to plant a hard kick to Daerian's head. The kick was deflected and Jonny felt the bite of the sword across his back.

                Crying out in pair, he tucked and rolled to break his ungainly fall. When he got up, he saw that he had left a big smear of blood across the dusty floor. The alkaline vamp dust burned his wound.

                "You were right about the sword. It does have some bite." Daerian grinned his feral grin, a small trickle of blood at his mouth. 

                "Screw you!" Jonny whipped the spear around is a large semicircle, before plunging it into the ground and using it to propel him forward like a pole-vaulter. His kick caught Daerian off-guard in the chest. He brought the spear up, ripping off a chunk of the floor as he cracked the shaft across Daerian's head. "Damn, your head is hollow!"

                He grunted when Daerian planted a solid kick in his abdomen and leaned in to slug him hard in the face. He barely recovered when another punch hit him, and another and another. Blood obscured his vision, but Jonny was able to break the cycle and gave Daerian a series of his own punches. He took a deep breath, and then he smelt it. Above the very ripe smelling basement, he could smell the pungent odor of leaking gas. Taking half a step back and then skipping forward for a powerful thrust kick, Jonny floored Daerian before vaulting over the ropes and staking a vampire that got in his way before batting a few more aside with the spear. He ran as fast as he could, heading for the exit. 

                "Buffy, throw over the lighter!" he yelled, hoping that she could hear it. The odor was so pungent now that his eyes watered as he ran. The lighter came flying and he caught it and flipped the top. "Get out!" He saw he blond head nod and then she was gone. He flew up the stairs, flicking the lighter to life and tossing it down the gaping darkness. Several vampires who had been fast enough pushed past him in their panic and ran outside. Buffy saw them and gave chase, stake in ready for some major dusting.

                The flame seemed to flicker out for a moment, before the blinding flash as it caught the first wave of methane. The rolling cloud of flame engulfed everything below, and the shrieks of terror were so loud that Jonny could hear them as the eruption of flames shook the very foundation of the building, the floor becoming warm from the intense heat below.

                And suddenly, from the sea of flame below, a black figure erupted through the exit, tumbling out unburned as a column of flame reared out of the exit, blackening the ceiling above and setting fire to the rotting wood. The sudden intensity of the heat threw Jonny back,

                The figure got up and screamed in rage. "You bloody bastard!" he screamed as he lunged at Jonny and picked him up by the front of his T-shirt. He flung the slender frame across the room with one arm, the shirt ripping off. Jonny bounced hard into the fuse box, the wooden box splintering. He fell with a pained moan as the splinters bit into his skin. The live wires above shorted and sparked, scattering their sparks like sparklers on the Forth of July. 

                Jonny pushed himself off and pulled off the rest of the ruined shirt. He wiped the blood out of his eyes, wiping his stained hands on his sides. "Hate me now, don't you?"

                Daerian howled in rage and flew across the room. Then they were locked in combat.

                Punch. Kick. Punch, elbow strike, knee. Roundhouse. Dodge. Counter attack.

                Block, block. Dodge, uppercut. Turning kick, axe kick. Flying kick.

                Jonny stumbled back and then toppled back when Daerian knocked him back with a stunning crescent kick.

                "You destroy everything, don't you? That's what you do! You destroyed my vision."

                Jonny flipped to his feet. Then, he ran full speed at the vampire and jumped and flipped over Daerian's head to avoid a kick. At the peak of his leap, he twisted and lashed out with a quick and hard kick, sending the vampire sprawling. He strode over and kicked Daerian in the face. "You destroyed her! You turned her! And you accuse me of destroying everything?" he yelled, kicking again. Daerian caught his ankle and twisted it savagely, throwing the boy off balance.

                He underestimated Jonny's will though, for when he got up, the Destined was next to him, ready for round three. A part of a beam fell, cinders bouncing of the concrete floor. More bits fell around them, scattering.

                "You think you're better than me, don't you? You rich, arrogant brat!" Daerian yelled, pounding Jonny mercilessly, driving his knee into the boy's lower abdomen.

                Jonny gained some leverage and countered a blow with a hard palm strike of his own. Leaning over, he brought his leg up in a reverse kick. Dodging a punch, he grabbed Daerian's outstretched arm, and flipped the vampire over onto his back and fell astride on his, decking him hard.

                "Yeah, I think I'm better than you! I'm not all stupid and homicidal! I don't go killing innocent people and hell, I'm not evil!" Jonny yelled, slamming Daerian's head hard on the ground.

                Daerian laughed. "You know how all the Destined Ones are related? How it is a continuum of warriors from one bloodline?"

                Jonny paused just for a second. "So what?"

                Daerian heaved him off and rolled to his feet. "So we're not quite different after all."

                "Would you just shut up for one moment and stop preaching through your ass? If I kicked your bloody behind right now, I would so give you a concussion since your head is so tightly wedged there!" Jonny snapped, throwing himself at Daerian again.

                Daerian used the impulsive attack to his advantage and tripped him before settling on him much like the way Jonny had done earlier. "Impulsive too. Now I know that we're related."

                "What do you mean?" Jonny cried angrily, struggling to get up but stopping when Daerian pulled his stake out and placed it at his throat. 

                "Oh come on! Even you should have figured this out by now! I was a Destined One. You and me, we're…"

                "…related." Jonny finished, numbness washing over him. 

                "Which is what makes us the same. So what do you think makes her love you?"

                Jonny was silent. 

                "Why won't she love me?"

                "She'll never love you!" Jonny snarled.

                "Not an answer to my question, but I'll let that pass. Now, answer this. Would you say she loved you for what you are? Or is it because of what you have? Would she still love you if you lost all that which she cherished in her memory of you?"

                Jonny cried a strange guttural sound, pushing upwards with all his strength, ignoring the point of the stake as it grazed the side of his neck. Wrenching the stake out of Daerian's hands, he kicked the vampire's long legs out from under him and pinned him to the ground with one hand. Daerian struggled, but the strength that flowed through Jonny was frightening.

                "I will never be what you are! I'm the Destined, and you're just a coward who sold out! She loves me!"

                "So you think! How would you know she ever truly loved you?" Daerian spat.

                Jonny smiled, a peaceful smile. "You know, you asked if I thought I was better than you. No, I don't think that I'm better than you. I KNOW that I am. At least, I had love, and you never did!"

                Daerian's face went cold and he struggled again, managing to grab Jonny's neck and he began to tighten his hold, cutting out the air supply. "I'm…"

                "You're dust!" Jonny wheezed, slamming the stake through the vampire's chest, feeling the ribs crack as the stake went through, feeling the minute resistance as the stake pierced the soft unbeating heart. He watched the feral expression leave Daerian's face. And then, there was only dust.

                The rest of the world came back in perspective now. The roar of the flames all around was deafening now, the dull orange blaze leaving behind black scorch marks. Jonny coughed, the smoke irritating his throat. Hot ash flew all around, stinging his wounds and burning new ones. The hot air around him was a living entity, rushing and whipping, blistering heat that curled the hairs on his arms. Perspiration trailed down his bare chest as Jonny searched for a way out. Spying a window through the flickering flames, he took a deep breath before running full speed at the window and leaping through it. He shot through the glass, tumbling painfully on the asphalt, fragments of glass raining on him, cutting him where he landed on them.

                Jonny breathed in the cool air, allowing himself to succumb to the dull ache that had become an integral part of his soul. A pair of boot clad feet stopped in front of him. He arched his neck and saw Buffy standing over him. She offered him a hand and helped him to his feet.

                "Okay, anything else you wanna add to your list of crimes. I think robbery should go right up there with arson." She brushed absently at a cut on her cheek. Aside from that, she looked pretty much unscathed.

                Jonny grinned his lopsided grin. "We got to find her."

                Buffy sighed. "That chick of yours is a real firecracker." She paused and looked at his battered face. "I'm thinking you wanna be alone on this one." She began to walk away.

                "Buffy," he called. She turned to face him. "I wouldn't mind some back up."

                She smiled.

                Jessie looked around. The streets were empty. One thing she was sure of, Prumiva was gone. Jessie wanted to scream in frustration. Already she could feel her soul weakening, the demon beginning to reach out again.

                _Please be safe, Jon. _

"I'm here."

                Buffy hung back, standing at the side. She wasn't supposed to be a part of this, she understood that much. She was only there to finish the job, should whatever crazy plan Jonny had briefed her on fail. By fail, he had meant his death. She was under no circumstances supposed to intervene, even if she could save him. His instructions were clear enough.

                 "Jessie!" she heard him call out. She turned to face him as he ran towards her. Her heart ached to see him that way, all battered and beaten up.

                He grabbed her and pulled her close to him, kissing her tenderly as they embraced. "Bite me," he whispered to her as he kissed her cheek.

                "What?" she said, pulling away.

                "Trust me," he whispered. "I need you to bite me."

                "No, I can't."

                "Yes, you can. The demon in you craves it. Let it feed!"

                "You will die."

                "Whatever the risk, you must trust me now."

                "Jonny…"

                "Shh… Jess," he silenced her, placing a finger on her cold lips. "You have to trust me."

                "But I…"

                "Do you trust me, Jess?"

                "Yes."

                "Then, bite me!"

                He felt her face morph as he held her close. He felt her fangs pierce his neck, and cringed a little at the sharp pain. Then he felt her draining him. Jonny began to chant, his Greek urgent and steady:

Oh mighty gods and goddesses of old!

I call upon ye to aid me

Mighty Zeus, Watchful Hera, Wise Athena, Loving Aphrodite!

Aid me now in dispossession of a soul

Through our blood we are as one

Unbind her soul from me

Free her from the fate that awaits me!

So as it was done, let it be undone.

I set you free!

                _Jonny, you must stop Prumiva._

_                How?_

_                Use the Blade of Aefriol._

_                What is that?_

_                I don't know. But whatever it is, she's afraid of it. She's afraid of you._

_                What is she going to do?_

_                End the world, somehow. Oh…_

_                What? What is it?_

_                I can feel it, Jon. I'm free._

_                I love you._

_                I love you too. Always. No matter what anyone says… even myself._

                Jessie tore away from Jonny's throat, her lips bloody. For a fleeting moment, the demonic face reverted to its original beauty. A soft smile crossed her face as a radiant globe rose from her body and rapidly dissipated. She was free!

                Jonny snarled at the demon that stood before him now. "Now, you die. No mercy, no holding back!" He slugged it hard in the face, sending it sprawling backwards with a hard uppercut. No longer did the luxurious red mane and delicate features soften his heart. 

                "Jonny, that hurt!" she pouted, her green eyes flashing.

                She received an axe kick in response. "You're not her. Nothing like her!"

                She picked herself up, and sneered, the lovely visage gone, replaced by a heavy brow and yellow eyes. "How'd you know what she… I was like? You knew close to nothing about me!"

                "I knew she loved me, that I loved her," Jonny responded, still referring to Jessie in the third person. 

                "I never loved you. I needed to get close to you, that's all!"

                Jonny kicked her in the face. "Stop speaking like you're her. She's gone… I know that. You're just…" He kicked again, but this time she caught his foot. She wrenched it, twisting his ankle viciously as he crumpled to the wet asphalt.

                "You're pathetic, Jonny! You've always been. Poor little rich boy… my foot! You were just a spoilt brat all the way!"

                "Keep yapping, bitch. You're making this a whole lot easier," he snarled back. He struck her with his free foot, slamming the heel into her chest. Pushing forward with his hands, he kicked her with both feet under the chin before using the momentum to swing back onto his feet. 

                Jessie got up and wiped away the smear of blood on her face. "You've been taught well, by my father."

                "No offense meant, but that I learnt from Jackie Chan movies." He slipped to the left as she attacked, coming up behind her to kick her in the rear. "That, I learnt from Race," he quipped.

                Jessie threw herself at him, slamming one boot after another into his stomach, watching the heel dig into his flesh. He caught her foot and used it to bounce her against a wall. Jessie got up and saw an oncoming tram. Using her vampire agility, she threw herself into it, grabbing a pole and dropping in. 

                Jonny ran after the vehicle, his desperation fueling him on as he leapt in through the back. "Stop the tram!" he yelled. He ran forward and tackled Jessie. "Stop the tram! Everybody out!"

                The tram screeched in protest as the emergency brakes were applied. The few remaining passengers tumbled out even before it came to full stationary mode. The last one out was the driver.

                Jessie threw Jonny over, and he hit the brake, breaking it under the pressure. The tram jolted into motion, picking up speed as it went downhill. Using the pole as leverage, Jessie struck Jonny full in the chest with both feet, sending him flying towards the open door. 

                Jonny saw the road rushing to greet him as he flew towards the exit. Reaching out desperately, he grabbed a pole and pulled himself back in, to be greeted by a punch to the face. Grabbing the pole above his head with both hands, he lifted his weight of the floor for a moment, draping his legs over her shoulders, before tossing her aside onto the seats. She retaliated by kicking him in the head.

                "You will die here, tonight!"

                "You first," Jonny pulled out his stake, tested it once and thrust it in. "Goodbye, Jessie!"

                Her scream was cut off as she fell into dust. The tram was trembling; threatening to derail at the current velocity it was traveling at. The brakes were useless, and the incoming traffic was coming up fast. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the wheel and twisted it sharply, throwing the balance of the tram completely off. He held on to the side as the racing vehicle tilted in slow motion and crashed onto its side, sliding on the road. The steel screeched in protest, sparks leaping off where the contact was heavy. Jonny screamed to get the sound out of his head.

                The tram came to a halt. Getting up, he climbed through a window and tumbled to the ground. It was over. His mission was over. He had done it, done it his way. He looked up at the top of the hill. A slender silhouette stood there. Buffy. In the moonlight, he could see her smile.

                He got up.

MAINE

                Hadji opened his eyes and smiled. They were free. The both of them were now free.

                "God bless, my friends," he whispered to himself. 

To be continued…

Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com 


	10. Chapter 10: Homecoming

From                       : Chihuahua

Date                        : 20th June 2003

Disclaimer              : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category                : A, JJ-HR, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating                    : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note       : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

**CHAPTER 10: HOMECOMING**

                Sunlight filtered through the dirty curtains, sending slanting beams in multiple directions. The sheets shifted, thrown aside to reveal a much bruised torso. Jonny stirred, his eyes gently focusing. He felt at peace, a huge burden lifted off his shoulders. He stretched; the pain in his muscles had now receded to a dull ache. 

                "Buffy?" he called softly, but there was no reply. He got off the bed, instantly aware of his nakedness. "Buffy, you here?"

                He slipped on his jeans and ventured to the bathroom. Nobody was there. He was alone. A scrap of paper on the other side of the bed caught his attention. He picked it up and read it through quickly. She was gone. Going home. 

                Jonny cleaned up, and packed his things. It was finally time. It had been so long since he had thought of it; he had no idea how to go about it. How to act, how to react. It was all a huge blur to him. Where was home anyway? His house was in Maine, but he wondered if that made it home. No, he decided. It was more of a prison. Last night… last night had been freedom beyond imagination. Liberation.

***

                He looked into her eyes, so focused. He blinked once, winced slightly when the water stung his cuts. He looked at the cloth she was using, bloody and stained. Her strong yet delicate hands wrung out the cloth once, twice, before continuing the cleaning. He jerked away once, pain ricocheting through him when the water ran into a deeper cut.

                "Sorry," she mumbled, stepping back for a moment. 

                "Why us?" he asked, clasping her hands. "Ya know, alone."

                She shook her head. "I don't know." She began to walk away.

                "Buffy, stay… please," he pled. 

                "I don't think that's a good idea."

                "Why?"

                "Because of you."

                "What about me? What's wrong with me?"

                "You're emotional right now. Shattered even."

                "So?"

                "God damn it! You're fragile right now!" She cried, storming out of the bathroom. She heard a faint rustle as he struggled to get to his feet. Then, his soft footsteps as the padded up behind her. "No, Jonny. Just no…"

                He turned her around gently, slowly forcing her against her will. His crystal blue irises seemed to open up for the first time, engulfing her in their depth and impossible clarity.

                "It isn't right."

                He sighed, letting her go. "Don't tell me it isn't right! I know it isn't right! Every damn thing that has happened isn't right! How else can I explain what I'm feeling right now? The guilt I feel for feeling this way? It's all so screwed up!" Jonny banged his fist against the wall and collapsed to the floor, setting his face in his palms. His body shook from each convulsing sob.

                "I didn't mean you," she said quietly. She looked at him, meeting his eyes as he looked up at her through tear-glazed eyes. "It wasn't about you. It was about me."

                He shook his head, not understanding.

                "I can't do this. I'd betray…"

                "We would betray them," he ended. His fingers traced her fang marks on his neck. "But would we be betraying ourselves too?"

                She didn't answer. She moved in, closed the gap and kissed him. Straddling him, she kissed him tenderly. "I hate myself…" she breathed.

                "I hate myself…" he echoed, in between kisses. 

***

SUNNYDALE

                Giles stirred from his disturbed sleep, removing himself from his couch where he had dozed off the night before. His body protested at his every movement, the throbbing pain in his head had not been cured by the half bottle of single-malt scotch he had consumed the night before.

                The phone rang again, the annoying trill forcing a wedge between his cranium and spine.

                "Giles…" he managed to slur. He listened absently for a few seconds before jerking awake, his sudden awareness causing him to topple off the couch, receiver still gripped firmly in hand.

                "She's back?" he rasped.

                "What do you mean she's back?" Xander grunted, rolling off his bed. Frankly, he was pissed at being woken up before noon on a Saturday morning.

                "I mean, she just got home," Willow said patiently, knowing well enough than to rush Xander when he was still in his morning stupor. She twisted the cord of her phone with her index finger, picturing Xander as he paced up and down the room in his ratty T-shirt and Ninja Turtles boxers. The ones she had given him a few years back. Sure they had gotten a little short, but he had not thrown them out yet.

                "When?"

                "This morning. Around six."

                "Great," he muttered, "she missed the grand shebang we had last night." He tested his elbow and winced a little. He knew he should be a little more happy than testy, but he just didn't feel up to it. Not yet.

                "You don't sound too happy, Xand…" Willow said, prodding cautiously. She knew she was dealing with new ground here.

                "Forgive me for not throwing confetti, but when your friend just ups and leaves you for a few weeks without even telling you where she's gone, that's cause enough for less-than-enthusiastic behavior.!" Xander snapped, and immediately felt bad. "Sorry, Will, still a little out of it, ya know. Sorry."

                "It's okay. I get it." Willow said goodbye and replaced the receiver. Buffy was back… everything would be fine again. 

                Buffy looked at her room, taking in the familiarity. Everything the way she had left them, nothing moved at all. Mr. Gordo still stood in a corner on her bed, the covers pulled up. Like no one had slept there at all. 

                She paced to her chest and lifted the lid. She set aside the false bottom that hid her mini collection of stakes, holy water and even a small crossbow with a bag of bolts. Nothing seemed to have been touched too.

                "I found that, you know," her mother's voice came, shaking her. She turned around and saw her mom leaning against the doorframe, her golden curls slightly flattened from uneasy sleep.

                Buffy smiled weakly. "I guess you already know enough… but…"

                "I'm sorry, honey. I never realized…"

                Buffy got up, tears glistening in her eyes. She pounced on her mother, hugging her tightly for the first time since she go back, making up for ignoring her mother's earlier embrace when she had opened the door.

                "Mom… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I hit you… so sorry I ran. I just…"

                "Shh… it's okay, honey. Mr. Giles explained it all. I know about your duty, your destiny…"

                "I'm so sorry…"

                "You've nothing to be sorry about. It wasn't your fault… it's not your fault that you're the Chosen One."

                Buffy choked out a laugh as she buried her face in her mother's chest. 

                Joyce Summers pushed her daughter back a bit, and took a hard look at her. "You're starved!" she exclaimed. "Were you on a diet?"

                Buffy laughed, her tears drying up. "No… I wasn't."

                "Were you okay, then? Did anything happen?"

                "Mom, I'm the Slayer. I can handle myself." She smiled. "Can we talk over breakfast? I'm starved!"

                Joyce nodded and hurried off. Buffy could hear the pans clanking and the smell of warm waffles soon after. 

                It was good to be home. She had Jonny to thank for that.

***

                Jonny looked out at the rolling desert land, his thoughts mulling over events as he stared blankly out of the window. The noon sun was high in the sky, casting short shadows and baking the earth outside. He had refused a flight home, courtesy of Race… frankly, he needed some time alone before he could face any of them. Everything was a mess in his head, nothing made complete sense if it even came close to making any.

                The snoring of several passengers around him became his rhythm, his tempo as he ran through his thoughts. Underneath his T-shirt, his cuts and bruises still showed, faded but visible. When he had snagged his shirt on a seat as he sat down, an old woman had taken one look at the injuries and had hurried to the back of the bus.

_                Jonny, you must stop Prumiva._

_                How?_

_                Use the Blade of Aefriol._

_                What is that?_

_                I don't know. But whatever it is, she's afraid of it. She's afraid of you._

_                What is she going to do?_

_                End the world, somehow. Oh…_

_                What? What is it?_

_                I can feel it, Jon. I'm free._

_                I love you._

_                I love you too. Always. No matter what anyone says… even myself._

                He went over that bit again and again, trying to make some sense of what Jessie had told him. She had said something about the Blade of Aefriol, whatever that was. Sounded like some kind of weapon, from the way she said it. Why else would Prumiva be afraid of it? Or even more perplexing, why would an age-old vampire be afraid of him?

                The bus sped on, the light fading outside as it crossed borders and continued to away from California. He was going home, eventually. The long way back would be a nice break, a time to reorganize his life and thoughts. 

                The bus sped on into the night, and he stared out of the window into the darkness.

                The airport crowd was thinning, considering the hour. It was past two in the morning, and he had yet to meet Race. Knowing Maine weather, he probably got delayed during the takeoff. Jonny sipped his black coffee from the Styrofoam cup, warming his fingers on the warm white material.

                It had taken him a long time, but he was finally in Florida. He had arrived the night before, and he had taken a few hours to himself to check out the old neighborhoods and all that he had been used to before they had moved to Maine. 

                "Jonny!" He looked up, scanning the near empty airport for the source. He spotted Race running over, his father and Hadji just a little behind. Taking one last sip, he dumped the cup into the dustbin next to him and got up, slinging his bag across his shoulders. 

                "Jonny!" He felt his father's arms embrace him, felt the power of that single hug alone. Tears came to his eyes as he pulled the red-haired man closer, hugging him for the first time in a long time.

                Benton pulled away and made room for Race and Hadji. 

                "Where have you been, kiddo?" Race asked, his eyes narrowing in concern. 

                "West. California."

                "Why?"

                "Does it really matter, Race? He's back isn't he?" Hadji interjected, easing himself in between the both of them. They could do without any painful revelations now. 

                Race shrugged. "Fine." He smiled. "Let's go home."

                It had been over a week since Jonny had returned to the Quest Compound. His father, Race and Hadji had tried as much as possible to get him to talk without invading his privacy. Sometimes he had indulged them, letting them on certain details regarding his departure. He had kept out his showdown with Jessie until Race finally pulled him aside and asked him bluntly. The pain and relief on his bodyguard's face lifted a huge burden from him. He felt their bond, stronger than ever again.

                Jonny turned the doorknob, feeling the cold metal turn under his hand. He pushed it open gently and stepped into the cool darkness. 

                Jessie's room.

                The neatly kept room reflected her immaculate nature. Even the posters of ancient cultures and illustrations of archeological masterpieces were carefully mounted on the walls. He stepped towards he desk and switched on her table lamp. The warm light washed over the flat surface. He saw her neatly arranged pictures, photographs of family and friends. 

                A picture of a smiling Estella and beaming Race was framed in a heavily varnished red frame. Another of his father, Hadji, Race, Jessie and himself was placed in an ornate brass frame with ivy detailings. Bandit sat in between her and him, bridging the two. But the one that stood out the most was a pure white bone frame that had carved dragonflies and lilies on it. It was a picture taken in Cancun. He stood next to her, his bright green shirt unbuttoned partially and her chocolate sundae had dripped down his navel as they kissed. Hadji had somehow managed to zoom in enough that it seemed almost like a portrait of just the two.

                Jonny looked at his smiling face, tanned from the hot sun. Her red hair spilled out from under her visor. Alone, taped on a side panel of her desk was a picture of just him. She had taken it without his knowledge when he had trudged downstairs one morning. His hair was tousled from sleep and the drawstring pants had fallen to just at his hipbones. Pillow creases were visible on his face. He had begged her to change the photo, but she had refused each time, saying that if she could love him at his worst, she would always be reminded of his best.

                Jonny turned off the light and slumped onto her bed and curled up on it. The bed that they had shared so many memories on. 

                He awoke when he felt a soft caressing at his hair. He knew from her touch that it was Estella. She curled up next to him, and together, they held each other, their silence, an indication of their knowledge.

To be continued…

Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com  


	11. Chapter 11: Seeking Normal

From                       : Chihuahua

Date                        : 28th June 2003

Disclaimer              : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category                : A, JJ-HR, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating                    : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note       : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

**CHAPTER 11: SEEKING **NORMAL********

            Jonny pulled on a white sweater, grabbed his bag and darted out of his room, taking the stairs two at a time the way he always did. 

                "I'm off, people!" he called, grabbing his car keys from the hook as he sped by.

                "Where to?" Race asked, coming out of the kitchen.

                Jonny stopped and turned around to face the man. "School." He watched Race's expression shift from troubled to firm to confused. "What? Where else would I be going?"

                Race cleared his throat. "Jonny… I thought that we might begin some, erm, training today."

                "Race, I need to get back to school… need to catch up on a lot of stuff. I want to graduate you know…"

                "Yeah, but…"

                "Look, can we talk about this later? I really need to be there early, talk to some of my teachers to see if they'll you know, let me catch up or something. Pop quizzes, whatever… I'll take anything."

                Race studied Jonny's face, saw his enthusiasm and lost. He nodded. "See you this afternoon then." He smiled and waved. "Training!" he added firmly and smiled faintly when he saw Jonny wave it away as he ran out of the front door.

                "You sure sending him away is a good idea, Race?" Benton asked, stepping beside his friend. They watched the blue Honda pull out of the driveway and speeding off.

                Race sighed. "It's not that I think it's a good idea. I-1 is demanding that Jonny be a Destined, full-time!"

***

                School seemed normal. No, Rockport High was the only monument of normalcy left in his life… it had to be normal… it just had to be.

                Jonny walked out of the staffroom, a huge grin on his face. He had managed to "coerce" his Biology teacher into letting him catch up, with a ton of assignments and quizzes notwithstanding. He checked his watch and paced himself to his locker. Calculus… he almost wished he had taken up Race's offer.

                _Scratch normal, he thought. Fight in the early morning, and it wasn't even of the ghoulish variety. Brad and gang, again! Today's victim, a sophomore probably, a very slender Chinese boy. Good-looking, pretty even. Prettier than me, he thought, remembering the night he met Buffy._

                Seth backed away, arms coming up to protect himself from Brad's shove. He fell back hard, slamming painfully into the row of lockers. He tried to move away, but another shove sent him back into the lockers. 

                "Leave me alone," he said, his dark eyes flashing angrily. "What'd I do anyway?" 

                Brad smirked. "Not too bright, are you, Chink?" 

                Seth glared back. He pushed himself off the lockers and tried walking away. Brad grabbed his arm and yanked, hard. Seth seemed to fall backwards. Seemed to.

                Jonny watched in awe as the slender boy pivoted at the last moment, jerking Brad forward, tripping him with an outstretched foot. Brad went down, hard.

                Seth turned away and strode off. He flashed Brad the bird when the fallen bully called him a racist name.

                Jonny allowed himself to smile, before hurrying off after the Chinese boy. Something about the way he moved puzzled Jonny, puzzled him enough to pique his curiosity. "Hey, wait up!"

                Seth stopped walking and turned to regard Jonny. His hands remained in the pockets of his gray cargoes, but Jonny saw the tension there.

                "Hey!"

                "Yeah?" 

                Jonny paused for a second, glancing around for any witnesses. Satisfied that they were alone in this part of the school, he lashed out with a powerful roundhouse kick.

                Seth seemed to move in slow motion, sidestepping the attack and executing a kick of his own that nearly connected with Jonny's face had the Destined not stopped its course.

                Seth jumped back, posture poised for an attack. "What the hell is wrong with you people anyway?" he demanded, nostrils flaring. "I've just been here a couple of days and everyone wants a piece of me!"

                Jonny grinned. "Just testing you. Are you a…?

                "Destined, no! Seth snapped. "But I do know about you, Jonny Quest."

                "How did you…?"

                "You're the reason I'm here."

                "Pardon me?"

                Seth sighed. "I was sent here to be your Healer."

                "My what?" Jonny demanded to know, zeroing in on Race.

                "Your Healer." Race's voice was controlled. "A magician of some kind that specializes in healing."

                "I personally prefer the term sorcerer," Seth quipped, from his slouch on the couch.

                Jonny flashed him a glare. "Why would I need…?"

                Seth sighed. "You need me because I-1 has deemed you valuable enough to get one. At no extra expense of course. All you need to do is to continue slaying vampires and demons and I'll be there to fix you up when you get banged up." He paused and returned an icy look at the Destined. "Unless of course you're dead. Can't help you there."

                "Why now?" Jonny asked, his tone softening.

                Seth shrugged. "Search me. I was pretty happy back where I was, next thing I know, my mom is giving me some crap about fulfilling my destiny." 

                "Your parents are…?"

                "Healers," Seth finished. "Yep, it's a family biz… not that I really wanted in on it. But hey, free sponsored education to the States, again."

                "What you mean again? You were here before you were wherever you were?" Hadji asked, breaking his adopted code of silence.

                Seth looked over at Hadji and decided that he liked the older boy. Or man. There was something about him that seemed forever tranquil. Jonny was a case pending… he was every bit the rich brat he had imagined, but there was more, much more to it and he wasn't about to just write the blond off as a total asshole. Not just yet. "I lived here for the first half of my life. My parents were assigned to New York and I grew up there. When the shit was done, they were transferred back to Malaysia. I've lived there, till now."

                Jonny raised an eyebrow at Race. "I-1 is networking now huh?"

                "Always been, kid. We have operatives all over the world, reporting any signs of active demonic activity. Which is why they probably sent this kid."

                All eyes were back on Seth, who seemed to shuffle a little uncomfortably. "I'm just here 'coz I have to be."

                Jonny squared off on Race again. "Is there something you're not telling me, Race?" For a moment, Race caught a glimpse of the little boy he had raised. Just a little, before the jaded shell covered it again.

                "A Hellmouth is opening here. In Rockport."

                "That explains a lot…" Seth said, slouching again. 

                "More than you think." Race looked at Benton. "You remember asking why Jonny became the next Destined One instead of that other kid?"

                Benton simply nodded.

                "Well, this would be your answer. He was the more logical choice."

                "And when did you acquire this bit of information, Race?" Race couldn't help but feel the slight hostility in Benton's tone.

                "Just today. Don't look at me like that, Benton. I wasn't hiding anything from you."

                "Glad that we've got that straightened out," was the icy reply.

                Jonny looked confused. "Okay, people, back up. There was another candidate?"

                "Another Potential yes. But it has since been reported that the boy has just been found a couple of weeks ago, dead. The operative who had been sent to guard him too. Both had been dead for over a month."

                "What about the other son, the ailing one?" Benton asked. Something didn't sound good at all. Whatever it was, his scientific mind was whirring at hypermode, putting two and two together and coming up with an infinite number of possibilities.

                "Dead. He was found much earlier, but he was hardly of any value to I-1 as we knew that his half-brother was the only other possible candidate."

                Benton turned to look Seth in the eye. "Is that why you're here now? Because the chances of my son being killed are that much higher?"

                "That would be the short version, yes."

                "Why not someone older? Someone with more experience, no offence to you, my friend," Hadji asked.

                Seth didn't answer, but Race understood.

                "He is their best."

                Jonny looked mildly amused and awed at the same time. "I've got some kinda prodigy watching my back now… that makes everything so much easier!"

                Seth glared back. "From what I've observed, you need all the help you can get," he challenged.

                Jonny fell for the bait. "Training room," he challenged, motioning for Race to follow. He stormed off, the rest following like an entourage.

                When they reached the training room, they were greeted by a very sheepish looking Jonny. "I can't fight you… not in my motto."

                Seth smiled. "Not quite as reckless as you've been credited for."

                "I'll take that as a compliment."

                "Whatever."

                "Where are you staying, Seth?" Hadji asked, changing the subject.

                "I-1 bed and breakfast," he quipped. "Very nice accommodations, if sterile and totalitarian is your style."

                Jonny made a surprising request. "Why don't you just move here? It would be more convenient for you and at least you're out of the dorm from hell."

                "Because you're moving over there," Race replied.

                Jonny spun around, shock evident in his expression. "Excuse me?"

                Race drew a deep breath. "I-1 has requested that you be sent over to them for future training and observation."

                "Well, tell them that I'm not interested in their requests."

                "Look, kiddo…"

                "Forget it! I'm not doing it!"

                "LIKE HELL YOU AREN'T!" Race exploded. Everyone was deathly quiet as the two of them faced off, glowering at each other. Seth backed away, unsettled by the domestic dispute. 

                "Yeah, I'm not!"

                "It's not about you anymore, Jonny! Can you for one moment stop being a spoilt brat and give others some thought?" Race yelled.

                Race's words stung Jonny. They echoed "Jessie's" words and brought out a deep running fear. "I'm selfish? Is it so selfish to want to be normal? Is it so selfish to want my life back? You know what's selfish? These bloody demands that keep being thrown my way!" Jonny lashed back.

                "What aspect of your life has ever been normal anyway?" Race demanded. "Your life is in constant danger. If not from Zin then it's Surd, or any of the hundreds of lunatics out there. I can't keep watching…"

                "Well, at least it's my life!" Jonny shot back.

                "Jessie would be disappointed in you!" Race retaliated, and immediately regretted it when he saw the pain etched on the boy's features. He knew he had crossed the line.

                Jonny took a step forward and slugged Race hard in the face, driving the man back into the wall. "Screw you!" He stormed off. A minute later, the front door crashed open and then slammed shut.

                An uneasy silence fell over everyone. Race picked himself up, swabbing at the blood that ran from his cut lip. Seth shuffled uneasily. "I think I'd better be going now."

                Benton nodded. "Pleased to have met you, Seth. Hadji, can you show Seth out?"

                Hadji nodded. Seth followed unquestioningly. When they were out of earshot, he asked, "These things always happen?"

                Hadji smiled a sad smile. "Only recently. Things have been… emotional since Jonny came home. Nothing's been the same since…"

                Seth nodded. "Thanks, I can find my own way out."

                "I can drive you back…"

                "It's okay. Best that I-1 doesn't know that I've already met all of you yet. I don't need the Q and A session… not quite yet."

                Hadji nodded. "Just walk straight down. IRIS will open the gate for you when you're there."

                Seth gave a mock salute and turned away.

                "Seth," Hadji called. "Welcome to the family!"

                Dinner was a strained affair. Mrs. Evans who was upstairs in another wing during the outburst was totally oblivious to the tension as she left for her own apartment. After the Quest Compound had come under siege from Zin's robots, she had decided that she would feel safer living in her own place. The food was virtually untouched as each person toyed with their spaghetti.

                Benton kept ticking glances at his watch and Race unconsciously massaged his sore jaw. Hadji excused himself after several tense minutes, citing not hungry as an excuse. Benton didn't protest like he would normally have, fully understanding Hadji's true reasons. 

                The silence prevailed for a few more terse minutes, before Race spoke. "Look Benton. I know that you're not exactly fond of I-1, but…"

                "Race, whatever it is between you and Jonny has to resolved between the both of you. I refuse to get involved for dear of losing either of you." He dropped his fork, giving up on trying to eat. He just didn't feel in the mood to eat.

                "He won't listen to reason, Benton."

                "Maybe he is, but it's not I-1's reason. It's not your reason."

                "Are you taking his side?"

                "Race, he's my son. I'll always be on his side. But I won't stand in the way of his destiny, neither will I help send him away!" Benton got up and tossed his napkin on the table. "I'll be in my office."

                The front door opened and closed. Benton heard Jonny's footsteps as they marched pass the dining room. "He's all yours to handle, but Race, talk to him as a friend, not a Watcher."

                Jonny rabbit-punched the bag, throwing his energy at his envisioned foe. He pummeled the bag mercilessly, punching and kicking. The gym had been converted into a training room to accommodate his training so that he would no longer have to do it in virtual reality. A turning kick missed its mark slightly.

                "You're spinning too fast. It's throwing your balance off," Race commented.

                Jonny ignored it and continued to whack the punching bag. 

                "Jonny, can we talk?"

                "I thought we've already done that!" Jonny snapped a kick at the bag, avoiding the swing and hitting it hard again.

                "I mean as in really talk. Like how we used to."

                "Things have changed, Race…"

                "We still have that bond. That hasn't changed. You're still that little boy I took care off."

                Jonny blinked back his tears. "Fine. Talk." 

                "What are you afraid of, Jonny? Why won't you comply by I-1's request?"

                Jonny remained quiet. "I don't want to lose her, Race."

                "Jessie? How can you lose her?"

                "They'll kill me, Race. They'll destroy who I am… all that matters is that I'm the Destined One. They wipe me out, they'll tear her away from me."

                "You'll never lose her. She'll always be with you."

                "Race, why do you want me to leave?"

                "I don't want you to, I-1 does."

                Jonny looked Race in the eye, his crystal blue eyes penetrating the glacier tones. "No, seriously, Race. What's your reason? I've spilt mine, not it's time for you to spill yours."

                "I can't keep doing this, Jonny."

                "Doing what?"

                "I can't keep fearing for you. Afraid that I might lose you."

                "So that's why you're all about sending me over. So that you don't have to worry about having blood on your hands?"

                "No, so that I won't have to be the one who finds you one day!"

                "The day I die will come sooner or later anyway. Probably sooner, but you will have to face it when it happens, Race."

                Race slumped against a wall, defeated. "I love you, kiddo."

                "I love you too, Race. But I won't go over to the I-1 training center. I will work from here!" He hugged his mentor and friend. "If I die, it won't be your fault." He stepped back and focused on the punching bag again. "What was wrong with my kick again?"

                "This will be your room," Jonny said, flicking the light switch of the guest room. "Bathroom's down the hallway. My room is the one next to yours and Hadji's is two doors down."

                Seth dropped his bag on the bed. "Seems normal enough."

To be continued…

Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com 


	12. Chapter 12: Fire, Ice and Jade

From                       : Chihuahua

Date                        : 19th August 2003

Disclaimer              : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category                : A, JJ-HR, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating                    : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note       : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

**CHAPTER 12: FIRE, ICE AND JADE**

            Jonny swept the land with his eyes. The grassy hillocks shone a dull blue in the night light, drops of the previous shower like crystal beads on a dark blue backdrop. The grass looked like jeweled scabbards stabbed into the ground. In orderly rows, tombstones jutted out from the ground, like stark white teeth of some unearthly being. The luminosity was unnerving for something so gloomy. Angels and saints glared down at him from their lofty perches, their usually serene faces harsh in the shadow. 

                He tripped over a tree root and cursed under his breath. The cemetery was quiet, almost silent. Then, there was a shuffle.

                The sound of crumbling damp dirt was crystal clear to him as he loped over the stretches of graves. Vaulting over a grave, he whipped out his stake and waited patiently for the vampire's chest to break the surface. 

                There was another shuffle behind him and Jonny leapt up, twisting in midair to kick a second vampire that had emerged from the darkness. Dropping back onto his feet, he lunged in with a hard punch and followed that with an uppercut and a sharp sidekick. Diving in, he drove the stake into the vamp's chest and tumbled through the cloud of dust…

                And drove the stake into the heart of the newborn as its chest broke the surface. He got up and dusted himself.

                "Well, that was exhilarating…" Ducking aside, he threw a hard punch at his foe, sensing rather than seeing. "Another one bites the dust!" he sang, ramming the stake through the vampire's chest.

                He smiled serenely as a vampire leapt at him, fangs and talons bared. "IRIS, shut down Graveyard Simulation 103, now!"

                "SHUTTING DOWN NOW," he heard IRIS say.

                The leaping vampire vanished, and so did the cemetery. The dim lights were replaced by the bright ones of the training room.

                "Why did you end the simulation?" Race demanded from his perch on the side. Under the harsh white lights, his hair appeared to glow and the newfound wrinkles that now lined his face deepened.

                "Feeling a little out of it today." Jonny mopped his face with a small towel and chugged away at his bottle of water. His white tank top clung to his wet body, his hair hung in wet tangles on his forehead.

                "You okay?" Seth asked, getting off the floor, stretching his lanky body.

                Jonny nodded. "Just tired, I guess."

                "Get a choc bar or something. Should give you a boost," Seth offered helpfully.

                Jonny shot him an amused look. "Look who's talking. You might try eating every once in a while… you're so skinny!"

                Seth seemed unperturbed. "I like it that way," he said in his defense, smiling. He studied himself in the mirror that stretched across a wall. 

                Race just grunted, making an entry into his Watcher's journal. 

                Jonny threw down his towel and straightened his track pants. "Race, have you found anything on that weapon yet? That Blade of Aefriol thing, I mean."

                "I've got a lead. I'm expecting her some time soon."

                Jonny nodded. "Good. Whatever. But I need it!" He picked up a pair of daggers and twirled them around for a bit, gauging their weight. Pulling a pair of QuestWorld visors on, he said, "IRIS, begin Simulation 506!"

                "Will he be ready?" Hadji asked, as he watched his brother run through a series of complicated punches and kicks, taking imaginary hits and doling out equally. On the LCD screen of Race's computer, he could see the simulated environment; a cave with six demons.

                "I dunno, Hadj… I hope so. But I'll feel better when we have that Blade of Aefriol with us," Race replied. 

                "He will be ready," Seth said, looking over at the two. 

                Race looked at the boy sharply. "How can you be so sure?"

                "I have faith. The question should be how can you not trust him? He is the Destined."

                "Many of the Destined have fallen under the weight of evil," Race shot back.

                "He's different. It's not yet his time."

                "What about the Blade of Aefriol? Shouldn't that help?" Hadji asked, ticking another glance back at the monitor. "Isn't that what that vampire was afraid of?"

                Race nodded. "We'll find out about it soon enough…"

                "So, what kind of magic do you deal in?" Hadji turned questioningly at Seth.

                The Chinese boy shrugged. "I'm a Healer."

                "Anything else besides healing?"

                "No."

***

                A small plane flew low in the night sky, the engine drone carrying a constant beat as the propellers beat the air in steady rhythm. Below, the nightlights of the city formed bright pinpricks against an otherwise dark spread. 

                "Ms. Kenyon, we will be approaching the Quest Compound in a few minutes. You should get your gear together," the voice over the intercom said, almost smothered by the roar of the propellers.

                "Guess I'll be getting ready then," a seductive whisper said teasingly. Flipping over her compact, she used the mirror as she applied her favorite lipstick. Berry stain… his favorite too.

                A single figure dropped from the plane, headed directly for the Quest Compound. The black parachute burst open, slowing its rapid descent. It landed spot on in the Compound, disengaging the harnesses even before it landed. Immediately, twin barrels were whipped out and aimed at an almost invisible security camera. Three shots disabled the three on the ground. Rolling aside to avoid the blasts from the laser beams from the security defenses, the dark shadow shot another two shots, disabling another two cameras.

                Suddenly, the Compound was flooded with light, catching the figure entirely.        

                "Ah, Jade, I was wondering when you were going to drop by," Race exclaimed, smiling. "Although I didn't anticipate such a bold entry," he added with a frown, surveying the damage.

                Jade pulled back her hood to reveal her raven bob and smiled coquettishly. "You know me, Bannon. Never one for meek entrances."

                "So I've heard," Benton said, stepping beside Race. 

                "Hello, Benton," she said. "I'll pay for the damages… or maybe there's a certain matter that's more important to you that I can assist with. Should we call it even then?" She winked.

                Benton sighed. "Even."

                "I thought so." Jade tapped her foot impatiently. "My, my gentlemen! How quickly you forget your manners!" she exclaimed in mock horror.

                Race shifted uncomfortably and Benton seemed to blush a little at his rudeness. "Please come on in, Jade," he motioned her in by stepping aside. Race stepped out and picked up her bag and bundled up the parachute, cursing softly at the amount of damage the raven-haired vixen had caused in two minutes.

                "So… this weapon you're searching for…"

                "The Blade of Aefriol," Jonny half-yawned. He struggled half-heartedly to straighten the T-shirt he had pulled on when he had been woken up. Next to him, Hadji yawned despite his best efforts to suppress it. Besides the adults, only Seth seemed awake. And Bandit. The dog now struggled to get out of Jade's hands.

                "Yes… well…"

                "Have you located it?" Benton interjected.

                "Manners, Benton, let me get there first," Jade admonished, wagging a finger at him.

                Benton looked slightly annoyed, ticking a glare at Race who shrugged helplessly. He was just thankful that Estella had flown back to her research the day before, sparing him the sticky situation of being caught in between two women from his past. As of yet, he was confused to whether or not Estella was back in his as a lover, or they had just been supporting each other. 

                "Well, anyway, as I was saying, this Blade you're all looking for is no easy thing to find. First of, we can rule out the black market. I've tried every name I know there, and each one either shrugged his shoulders or threatened to take mine off for some apparent debt."

                "We gathered that much, Ms. Kenyon." Hadji looked straight at her, studying the unlined face for any signs of deception. He could find none, but that did not bode well with him anyway. It was better to be able to read Jade's deceit than to learn the hard way later. 

                "So, I did my homework and checked with the bigwigs of the other dimensions and pulled some strings, twisted some arms and horns, but in the end, a couple of them spilt their guts, the rest literally." Jade smiled slyly. "Apparently, the Blade is a beautiful sword, a katana if you will, that was wielded by Aefriol before his demise." Jade pulled out a scroll from a case and waved it slightly.

                Benton nodded. "We've seen the pictures."

                "So, where is the sword?" Jonny snapped impatiently. He had had about enough of Jade's procrastination. Waking him up to hand him the weapon was fine, but waking him up to tell him what he already knew pissed him off.

                "Patience, my friend," Hadji soothed him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Jonny glared at him, then directed the steely gaze at Jade.

                Jade looked back, unfrazzled. Her mossy green eyes were calm and bore only the slightest bit of frost when she returned the look. She had known the kid for a long time, and had known about the legacy that shrouded him a lot longer. There was no way she was going to take orders from an upstart… no matter how prodigious. 

                "How badly do you want it?" she asked, turning her attention to Benton. Jonny made an exasperated sound.

                Benton breathed calmly. He had predicted this and now he slid a case across the table. "All in hundreds," he said airily as Jade flipped open the case and thumbed through the stacks.

                "A million, fifty percent short of my charging price, Benton dear," she cooed. Sighing, "But since we're old friends, I'll give you my special discount and accept this."

                "Wait, Jade. I've no intention of short-changing you. The five hundred thousand will be delivered when you get us what we want," Benton said, smiling.

                "You've already got what you wanted. You asked for information on the Blade, and that scroll is the map to it." Jade got up.

                "We need the Blade, not a map."

                "Sorry, Benton. I've got other business to attend to," she said curtly.

                "What if say, I up the five hundred to another full million?"

                Race hid a smile. The doc had hooked her. There was no way Jade could say no to such an offer.

                "What do you say, Jade?" Benton pressed on.

                "Deal."

                "Good. We'll set off tomorrow."

                "You're the client," Jade headed out. "Will I get my own suite or will I be having a room-mate?" Jade asked, aiming a coquettish smile at Race.

                "A guest room has already been set up for you since we anticipated your arrival." Benton got up. "Back to bed, boys. We'll be leaving early."

                Jonny mumbled something and slid of the chair, motioning for Bandit to follow him. Hadji followed. Seth lingered behind, studying Jade. There was something about her that intrigued him, a familiar memory.

                "So, you're the one," Jade said, a confident smile plastered on her face as she studied Seth.

                Seth was puzzled. "The what?"

                "In due time."

                "What's that supposed to mean?"

                "It means simply what it sounds like. You will learn in due time."

                "Learn what?"

                Jade walked away, headed for the stairs.

                Seth ran after her and grabbed her shoulder. "Tell me!" he hissed.

                Jade turned around, the coldness of her eyes frigid now. "Don't grab me!" she all but snarled. Something in her eyes made Seth back away, not from fear, but from reverence. 

                "Sorry." There was no answer.

                The Dragonfly II zipped through the air, cutting a clean wedge in the clouds as it propelled on. Jonny peered out of the window and suppressed another yawn. They had left the Compound before five in the morning and were off the runway by seven. The sky was bright above the clouds. He turned away from the window; there was nothing to look at besides clouds anyway.

                Behind him, he heard the restless shuffle of feet, and smiled. Even Hadji was feeling a little edgy on the trip. Across the deck, he saw the Healer fiddling with his earring, an utterly bored expression on his face. 

                Bandit stretched and yawned on Jonny's lap, rolling over to give his master a contented look before leaping off onto the floor to scurry off somewhere. The dog went through a door, towards the small kitchen. Jonny could hear his father and Jade talking about the Blade.

                The Blade of Aefriol. The weapon of his ancestor. Jessie had insisted that he find it, and so he would. But at what cost?

                "What's on your mind?" He looked up and saw Seth standing next to him, stretching his arms. Those piercing kohl-dark eyes probed his, penetrating his mind.

                "Nothing." Jonny turned away.

                "Anythin' to do onboard?" Seth looked around blankly, motioning with his hands. He raised an eyebrow at Hadji, who simply shrugged.

                Jonny shrugged. "Never much to do on these trips, watch some TV, scan through videos…" _Make out with Jessie, _he continued mentally. "And then, there's QuestWorld."

                Hadji looked up in surprise. The past few weeks that he had been home, Jonny had never used QuestWorld for more than training sessions. Never for recreational purposes. 

                "Isn't that just for simulating your training sessions?" Seth asked.

                "No, my friend. QuestWorld creates any artificial environment you please and takes on many functions. In this case, say, we used to use it for games."

                "We're talking like PlayStation here?" Seth looked around.

                "Only better," Hadji affirmed.

                "Cool. Do you need a special invite or anything?"

                "No." Jonny got up and led the way below deck. A special section of the storage deck had been sectioned off for the kids when they were younger. A portable console was already in place and Hadji got behind the screen. Jonny handed Seth a pair of visors and set himself down on one of the recliners. Seth did the same.

                "What are we playing?" Seth asked, shifting to get comfortable.

                Hadji browsed through the selection of programs and sighed. "We really have to update the archive some time soon. Everything here is close enough to ancient."

                Jonny grinned. "When was the last time we did it?"

                "Two years ago."

                "Damn! Oh hell, let's just go retro. Mystic Voyage, Hadj!"

                "Mystic Voyage it is." Hadji tapped the keys rapidly. "IRIS, load program Mystic. Subjects Jonny Quest and Seth Chen. Going hot!"

                Seth looked around, scanning his surroundings. Everything looked like a stylized set of Dungeons and Dragons. "Kinda cheesy isn't it?" he ticked a glance over at Jonny, and admired how closely Jonny's image resembled his real form.

                "What's up with the outfits?" Seth asked, pulling at the tights he was wearing with extreme discomfort.

                Jonny shrugged. "You're an elf, I guess. Would explain the long hair and fancy get –up."

                Seth glared at Jonny. "So, what exactly do we do?"

                "Mostly go from stage to stage… by bashing them!"

                Seth whirled around and nearly took an axe to his face. He dodged the swing, just in time to see it shred through some of his dark hair. Instinctively, he grabbed the twin daggers at his belt and fell in time with Jonny as they slashed their way through. Goblin blood spurted over him… stinging his eyes. He could almost taste the rancid blackness as some sprayed over his face.

                "This is almost too real!" he yelled over the clash of weapons.

                Jonny grinned, ducking a swing from a sword and plunging his own into the goblin, kicking the carcass aside as it fell onto the ground. "That bad for you?"

                "Hell no!" Seth whooped, jumping over a foe, kicking it in the face as he jammed the daggers into yet another. As the body fell, he heard Jonny whoop in glee.

                "That was a rush!" the Destined cried, wiping off blood from his face. The dark streaks were everywhere, even darkening sections of his hair.

                Seth wiped his daggers and stuck them back into the holsters. "What's next?"

                "Watch out!" Jonny screamed, leaping forward.

                Seth spun around and saw a huge sword sweeping at his head. He held out his hands protectively…

                "What the f…!" Hadji exclaimed, ducking aside as a bolt of pale blue energy shot at him. He fell painfully his side as the laptop blew up, sending bits of alloy everywhere in the chamber. The blast had been powerful… it had to have been powerful. The damage was testament to it.

                "Hadj, what happened?" Jonny asked, getting off his seat. His visor was pushed up on his head.

                Hadji brushed himself down and shook his head. "I do not know, Jonny. There was this strange bolt of… something. Some kind of energy blast. It blew up the console."

                Jonny frowned. "Where did it come from?" He looked around, checking for anything.

                Hadji shrugged. "Maybe it was just a freak accident. Like the charge of something or other."

                Seth stepped next to the two. "Yeah… freak accident," he muttered, concurring. 

                "Well, I guess QuestWorld is out of the question now." Jonny removed the visor from his head and placed them on the table. Seth placed his next to it. 

                "There are those DVDs we packed before leaving," Hadji suggested. Jonny was already headed for the upper deck.

                "Freak accident," Hadji muttered. He looked at Seth, peered into the boy's eyes. "Freak accident…" Seth simply turned and walked away, rubbing his hands as if they were really cold. 

ISRAEL

            Dry dirt rose in clouds as they trudged through the rough and uneven terrain. The sun was high in the sky and the heat beat down on their backs mercilessly. Benton cast a reproachful look at the jeep they had left some two hundred yards back. The dirt road they had followed had fallen into a dire state of disrepair over the years; centuries of erosion from the elements had caused a huge ravine to open up, a deep yawning trench that did not seem to end. 

                As Race had subtly put it, they were screwed. 

                Jade led the way now, Race co-navigating. Benton readjusted his hat and struggled to keep up. His age, damn nature again, was catching up with him. Either that or he had to get back to his routine morning workout.

                Hadji ambled along, keeping him silent company as they made their way through the brush. Hadji's khaki shirt had been stuck into his backpack, a sleeve sticking out uncharacteristically. Further up, Jonny and Seth matched each other's step, taking easy strides behind Race and Jade. Jonny's T-shirt had been slung through the strap of his waist pouch, flapping lazily as the boy walked. Benton had made sure they had all slathered themselves with a gallon of sunblock before the journey. Even so, the teen's usually tan shoulders were already red from the rays.

                Benton's body was lethargic but his mind remained alert. He noticed that the only one who did not seem to be suffering from heat exhaustion was Seth who maintained an easy pace. His T-shirt was soaked, but he did not seem to mind he loped along, switching his sling bag from one shoulder to the other in intervals. Race was swearing loudly about flies and the heat and Jade was too fixated on her compass and the map.

                "How much further?" Seth called out, after nearly an hour's trek through the dry land.

                Race looked ahead and made a rough estimate. Probably another half an hour.

                The procession continued somberly.

                "Bandit's so lucky he missed this!" Jonny said, pushing his shades up on his damp hair for a while.

                Hadji laughed. "I don't think he would agree." Bandit had been locked up in the Dragonfly II as Jonny had deemed the journey to be too troublesome, even without a dog. Hadji was silently grateful for the bit of foresight. A frantic dog in this weather was simply asking for trouble.

                They reached their destination forty minutes later.

                "This it?" Jonny asked, stretching his bare torso. 

                "Yeah," Race answered, looking up at the rocky caves. "Now we just gotta figure out which one."

                Jade shrugged and prepared to continue.

                "Don't move, Jade!" Jonny hissed in warning. His eyes glinted urgently.

                Jade froze on the spot. She felt the hair rise at the back of her neck when she heard the sharp hissing.

                "Rattler," Race commented, his eyes showing his anxiety.

                "Jonny, don't…" Benton started, but it was too late. Jonny had slunk closer to the coiled reptile, tugging his T-shirt from his waist free. 

                "Jade, listen to me," Jonny spoke steadily. "When I tell you to, jump towards Race." He continued to slide closer. "Just trust me," he added when he saw the hesitation on her face. Jade nodded, just a brief gesture of her head.

                Jonny slid closer… "Ready?' he asked, looking Jade straight in the eye. Jade nodded shallowly again. "JUMP!"

                Jade leapt blindly at Race, kicking off as hard as possible.

                In that same instant, the rattler uncoiled itself with blinding speed, mouth gaping and fangs extended. It lunged forward… and Jonny swung his T-shirt, catching it across the midsection and slamming it onto a rock. Whipping the shirt away, he slammed his heel into the snake's head, feeling it crunch under his shoe.

                "Now that was a rush!" he whooped, a big grin on his face.

                "That was amazingly stupid!" Benton yelled, his face taut with worry. "You could've been bitten and…!"

                "And Seth would've healed me," Jonny finished. "What would you have rather me do? Stay still till it bit Jade?"

                "The boy's quite a hero now, isn't he?" Jade smiled gratefully. "All grown up."

                Hadji was quick enough to catch a flash of paternal annoyance on Benton's face and another of envy on Race's. _Oh boy…_

                "Do you know which cave it's in?" Seth looked expectantly at Jonny.

                Jonny was about to bite back a comment when strangely, he realized that he did know where it was. "Over there." He jogged the short distance and plunged away from sight.

                "Jonny, wait up!" Race yelled. He stopped at the entrance of a cave. It had been hidden from view till now. 

                "Come on in, it's fine." Jonny's voice was faint, coming from the darkness. Suddenly, a beam of light flashed on. "Come on!"

                They entered one after another through the narrow mouth. Jonny led this time, as they stepped deeper and deeper into darkness. 

                "We seem to be headed downwards," Benton observed, his flashlight swinging from side to side. "Amazing." He leaned forward to study the runes that cut were cut into the wall. Hadji did the same, together they read the etchings.

                "I can't really tell, but these appear to be Sumerian," Hadji said, tracing the carvings with his finger tips. The edges were still sharp, as though fresh.

                "I can't make out much, but I think it's some kind of protection spell." Benton straightened up. "It's not all Sumerian. See, there's Greek, Arabic, and some others which I don't recognize."

                "Onwards then," Race commanded, whipping out a heavy duty flashlight.

                "How come he gets the big tool?" Jade asked, pulling out her own light.

                "Because there was only one," Benton answered, not pulling his attention from the walls. 

                The rocky ground soon softened, becoming nearly sandy as they continued to move deeper and deeper into the cave. At times, there were branches in the tunnel, but Jonny was always decisive in his choices, working his way steadily through the pitch blackness. His torch seemed to be a secondary tool in his navigating.

                "You sure about this?" Race asked, shifting the heavy light to his other arm. 

                Jonny didn't answer, but he stopped suddenly, smiling to himself.

                "What is it, my friend?" Hadji said, moving closer. His beam didn't seem to be able to pierce the inky blackness that lay ahead.

                "We're here."

                Race handed a bag over to Benton. "Distribute the weapons," he said shortly, aiming the light into the dark cavern.

                Seth looked into the bag and whistled. "Not a fan of ancient weaponry, I see." He reached in and pulled out a gun. "Uzi?"

                Race nodded.

                The rest armed themselves. Even Jonny pulled out a semi-automatic.

                "Ready?" Race took the lead this time, gun in one hand, light in the other. The darkness seemed to swallow them as they passed through it.

                "No use, Race. Better try that new thing."

                Race sighed. He knew that Benton was right, but to test out new equipment, even the Doc's, was somewhat desperate. And desperation did not bode very well with Race. Slipping the bag off, he dug his hand in and pulled out a small globe the size of a tennis ball. 

                "Someone aim the light there!" Race took a deep breath and pressed a button on the ball before rolling it. A moment later, the ball exploded into a ball of light, flooding the space with light.

                "It'll only last five minutes," Benton said.

                Jonny had already headed towards a column of pure light. He had seen it almost as soon as he had felt it. The light simply made it a lot easier to navigate his way through the vast space. 

                The chamber was some kind of gorge; a sheer drop ran through part of the space. The walls stretched like mountains, rugged and steep. Where they stood, everything looked like the base of a mesa, huge columns of solid rock rose in intervals. On closer inspection, it also seemed as though they were on the plateaus of a mesa as the land on which they stood on fell all around them, ending in a pit of unfathomable depth.

                "Fur on a catfish!" Race studied the landscape in awe.

                "Holy shit!" Jade had stepped to the edge and was peering over into the darkness. "Crap, I wouldn't wanna fall here."

                Hadji shuddered secretly. He muttered a silent prayer to Vishnu for their luck. Where the five of them stood now, they had come close to six feet away from a fall into the abyss.

                "Where's Jonny?" Benton asked suddenly. He checked his watch. "About three minutes more before darkness falls again.

                "Over there." Seth pointed to a lone figure at the far end of the rocky platform they stood on.

                "What the hell is the kid doing?" Race muttered. 

                "The Blade. He's going for the Blade." Seth looked on; the intensity in his eyes was matched by the rest as they could only watch.

                "He won't make it in time," Benton commented, pulling out a flare gun. "Race, can you aim at those cliffs. I think those are some kind of sconces. If there's enough fuel there, we might still have some light. 

                "Worth a shot." Race took the gun and took aim. He fired three shots, angling all three differently so that the shower of sparks would hit different areas. Benton pulled out another gun and did the same, aiming at another cliff. The sparks caught on and the cliffs were ablaze with light from the lit sconces.

                The flickering light cast shadows everywhere, catching the carvings in the walls.

                "More carvings," Hadji pointed. "And a mural of some sort too."

                Benton had already begun to take digital photos of the walls, taking systematic sections of the wall. "We may need to study these later on."

                Jonny jogged, his target set in his sights. The column of light suspended a sword and he knew that that was the object of his search. The light fell on the top of an island. A dark chasm surrounded it, and it was connected to the main plateau only by a narrow bridge. The air was still all around, no sign of movement. However, the first step he planted on the bridge triggered a rough gale. Coupled with the dulling of his senses, he had difficulty keeping his balance.

                _A test.__ It's only a test. _Jonny persevered, pushing on. A sudden wave nearly pushed him over the edge, but ducking, he rolled back to his feet, keeping low to reduce wind resistance. The gale continued to pummel him, the temperature dropping enough to chill his bare skin to the bone, then hot enough to singe the hairs on his arms. Jonny took yet another step, pushing himself on. 

                A step was followed by another step.

                And yet another…

                And still another…

                And then, he was there. He stood just outside the beam of light, the light circle a pure white against the rusty red of the earth. 

                He reached out slowly, cautiously. His arm ached from the hesitation, moving slowly as his fingers approached the hilt.

                And then he grabbed the hilt, feeling the warmth of the leather wraps. Retracting his arm, he pulled the sword from its vertical position and traced a finger down the cold metal. 

                He laughed. It had been so easy. 

                Then the light bathed him, burning out his sensations; blocking his sight, smothering his hearing, numbing his touch and he tasted nothing. 

                Jonny screamed! 

                The light was white hot, searing him with the intensity of a hundred suns. Then it was cold, freezing like a blanket of snow. He felt nothing, and yet it was everything. It seeped into his very being, draining him and revitalizing him. 

                He felt the pureness of untainted energy. It had no name, no description. He was in limbo; he was neither standing nor lying. Weight and gravity meant nothing and colors shifted from one to another. There were no clear definitions, no lines, totally devoid of boundaries.

                He felt as though he was being hurtled through time, and yet he did not see any movement. Blazes of color and blurs of images were captured with strange intensity, and were remarkably clear.

                Then, there was her… Jessie.

                "Jess…"

                She smiled. "Yeah, Hotshot!"

                "What the heck is going on?" he asked, still caught in limbo.

                "You've finally accepted your calling. It's your destiny."

                Jonny furrowed his brow in confusion. "I've been slaying for some time now… what do you mean 'finally'?"

                Jessie's smile was sad this time. "You never fully accepted your duty… until now."

                "What? Does this sword make all the difference?"

                "It's not the sword."

                "Then what?"

                "It's your determination to find the sword. That was acceptance. That you would save the world. That you would be all that you can be. A hero… a legend."

                "It's not like I'm alone in this," Jonny said, reaching out for her. Jessie seemed to fade away, and in her place, a handsome youth in swirling robes materialized.

                "But you are alone, young Destined. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Aefriol, the owner of the sword you seek." The voice was almost musical, clear and rich.

                "I'm not alone!" Jonny protested. "Jessie, where are you?"

                "She's moved on, as you must to. Being a Destined One is all about solitude. You will move on, rely on yourself. That is the way."

                "I have friends!" Jonny snapped back hotly.

                "You have comrades. A warrior has no friends."

                "Bullshit!"

                "Friends and family will only get in your way. The way mine did."

                "I'll take my chances. Save the world I can try. Float around discussing zen-like philosophies I have no time for."

                "You will learn. The ultimate sacrifice is yours to bear." Aefriol seemed to fade away as the rest of the world came back into focus.

                The light disappeared. For a split second, there was a stillness in the air. Then a blast of air so devastating that it completely knocked him off his feet, hurtling him over the edge.

                "Jonny!" Benton yelled, running as fast as he could towards his son as he witnessed the horror. The sandy ground slowed him down but he didn't care as he raced forward, the fear of inevitability deep in his chest. Helplessness turned to rage as he bolted forward.

                The wave knocked him over, bowled the rest over as it slammed into all the rocky walls. The impact was immense! The crash vibrated through the air, ringing in their ears. Chunks of rocky debris fell from the heavenwards walls and great cracks cut their way through the ground. Dust was swept into the air, eddying and rising to the ceiling, masking the light of the sconces. 

                "Benton, get back here!" Race yelled. His heart grew cold as he saw a chunk of rock the size of an SUV miss the doctor by mere feet. "Benton, get your bloody ass back here!"

                Hadji was already herding Jade and Seth through the entrance, shielding his own head with his hands.  "Father! Come back!" he yelled, desperation tightening his throat. He prayed hard, harder than he ever remembered.

                Benton was still running towards the island when Race tackled him. Both men tumbled through the dirt.

                "Get off me!" Benton screamed, flailing madly. "I need to get to him!"

                "It's too late, Benton. He fell!"

                "He could still be alive!" All sense had abandoned the doctor as he continued to thrash wildly.

                "Don't be insane!"

                "I will not lose him!"

                "We cannot lose YOU!" Race yelled back, shaking Benton hard. "We cannot lose you. Think of the rest."

                Benton sat still, a statue in the chaos. 

                "We've got to get out!"

                Benton nodded numbly, but his eyes sparked with determination. Hauling himself to his feet, he ran alongside Race, dodging the falling hazards. Dust stung his throat and burned his eyes but he kept on.

                Jonny grabbed a rocky handhold and with his other hand, plunged the sword into the rock above it. The blade went in cleanly without protest. Using the hilt as a handhold, he swung himself upwards onto a rocky outcrop. He pressed his battered body against the rock face as he repeated the torturous climb. With one bleeding hand, he held a handhold, with another, he plunged the sword in. All around him, dust and debris fell, a storm of rock and dust. 

                A chunk hit his shoulder, cutting deep into the flesh before tumbling and crashing its way down into the dark abyss. Jonny cried out in pain, tensing his muscles as the searing pain intensified with each movement. His climb was painfully slow, but gradual. 

                Sliding the shining blade through the solid rock once more, he pulled himself upwards. Reaching out with his free hand, he grabbed the rocky ledge. The ledge bit into his slick hand. With a mighty thrust, he landed on his face in the dirt. Whipping the sword around and sliding it into its scabbard, he ran. Legs pumping and chest heaving, he ran.

                The entrance was close. Benton's heart sank as he realized that he would never be able to see his young son again if he got out. Hr kept running though. A deafening crash caused him to pause for a second, to look up. Race did the same, and from his look of horror, he knew that the other man must have felt exactly like he did, if not worse.

                An avalanche of was rushing to meet them, a sleet of rocks and rolling dirt. As their hearts gave way, they were tackled hard from behind, sending them tumbling through the exit. It was a painful way to make it, but it was quicker than they could've run anyway.

                "Get up! Both of you! MOVE!" A familiar voice bellowed in the darkness. 

                Benton nearly wept but he obeyed, hauling Race up so fast that his friend nearly toppled forward. The rumbling was behind them, for only a second, before it was next to them. They ran… clouds of dust enveloping their legs as they ran blindly through the darkness. Twice Benton stumbled and twice he picked himself up and continued.

                The light appeared finally after a bend and with a final thrust, three banged up men leapt through, rolling as they landed on the hill. Race tumbled expertly from his years of training. Benton had less grace, but he managed to make it with minimal injuries. 

                Jonny however was exhausted, slamming heavily onto a rocky outcrop and lay there unmoving as an explosion of dust followed their hasty exit, the dust lingering in the hot air, wispy tendrils that refused to give up.

                Race was next to the battered body almost immediately, cradling the boy in his arms. He looked so frail in his arms, so pale and covered in blood. There was so much blood. Seth hurried up, cracking his knuckles. A look of set determination convinced Race that Jonny would be okay.

                "Put him down," Seth said calmly. Race placed Jonny carefully on the ground and stepped back to make room for the Healer. Taking a deep breath, Seth, placed his hands over Jonny and closed his eyes. Bright purple light emanated from him and engulfed the both of them.

                Seth grit his teeth, his pain unknown to the others as Jonny's healing was accelerated magically. Swirls of light wove through the torn tissues and skin, restoring them. Then, the light was gone and Seth rose to his feet, feeling slightly light-headed.

                As if a testament to the Healer's capabilities, Jonny stirred and moaned. 

                "I can't heal aches." Seth shrugged. 

                Jade snickered. "We made it. We got that bloody sword and we made it. Alive!"

                Benton pulled both his sons to his chest and hugged them. "I love you…"

                Hadji returned the hug but Jonny moaned. "Pops… I'm still aching!"

                Benton laughed, the wave of hysteria hitting the rest of them as they laughed. 

                "Now, Benton. There's a small matter of my payment…" Jade started.

                Benton laughed. "Same old Jade. You will get your money when we're back in Maine."

                Jade pouted a little. "Fair enough."

MAINE

                "I've completed the transaction to your Swiss account," Benton announced. "Thank you for your help, Jade."

                "Always a pleasure doing business with you, Benton," she cooed back, slipping on her leather jacket. "Especially for such handsome gentlemen."

                "More like for a handsome fee," Race quipped, picking up her bags.

                Jonny laughed and got up gingerly. His body was still sore, but he was recovering quickly. "Bye Jade. Maybe your next visit will be a leisure trip."

                "I doubt it, Sunshine."

                "Goodbye, Ms Kenyon," Hadji said, holding out his hand.

                Jade nodded. "You'll make a helluva sultan yet, Hadji."

                Seth hung back, not sure of what to do. He was new to the team and had only just met the enigmatic woman. He gave her a two finger salute and she smiled back. Leaning in closer, she whispered, "Handle him with care. He's still fragile." She turned away from Seth's puzzled look.

                "Thanks for coming along for the ride," Race said, giving her a hug.

                "Anytime Bannon. Anytime." 

                The thumping of an approaching helicopter could already be heard.

                "That's my ride, gentlemen." She waved once and hopped onto the helicopter. 

                And then she was gone.

To be continued…

Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com 


	13. Chapter 13: Old Skool, New Skool

From                       : Chihuahua

Date                        : 22nd October 2003

Disclaimer              : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category                : A, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating                    : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note       : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

                                  Some homosexuality will follow this part, nothing too graphic; I am still keeping the PG rating for as long as possible. Hope you guys will see this as a necessary step towards character development.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

**OLD SKOOL, NEW SKOOL**

SUNNYDALE

                Three figures loitered about the Summers' home, plopped on the couch and the floor.

                "So, how's it been?" Buffy asked, sitting cross-legged on the couch. She looked over expectantly at Willow and then Xander who was sprawled on the floor, looking somewhat sullen. The air of animosity had been evident since he had begrudgingly stepped into the Summers' residence that evening, carrying a paper bag of rented videos.

                There was a pregnant pause before Willow cleared her throat. "It's been kinda wild since you… left. Vampires running amok and all, not that they were out of control… which they kinda were. We took care of it… Giles, Xander and me. Oh and Cordy too!" 

                Xander grunted in response, shoveling another mouthful of nachos into his mouth, ignoring Willow's banter.

                "So you guys took care of it?" Buffy prodded on, trying to keep the conversation going.

                Xander bolted up and threw the bag of chips on the floor and stormed away. He stopped when Buffy came up in front of him.

                "What the hell is your problem?" she demanded. "You've been acting strange since…"

                "Since what, Buff? Since you came home? Since you just upped and left us to deal?" Xander retorted.

                "I'm sorry if the vampires are too much for you to handle."

                Xander laughed bitterly. "I'm not even talking about vampires here."

                "So what did you have to deal with?"

                "You leaving. Do you know what it's like? To have a friend just leave. Wondering if she was winning over her own personal demons. Sure we all knew that you killed that asshole, but still, how many more demons did you have?"

                Buffy hung back, stung by the truth. "How dare you…?"

                "How dare I what, Buff? Worry about you? Love you? How dare we care? No, Buffy, how dare YOU? You had no right… no bloody right!" Xander pushed past her and stormed out of the house. Willow hung back, a partly helpless look on her face and yet Buffy knew she felt the same way.

                "I've got to go… catch up with him. We'll do this again some time… it's been… kinda fun… in a way. Bye!" She bolted, her colorful pullover a blur of color as she hurried after Xander, leaving Buffy behind.

                Tears coursed down her cheeks as she stood there, feeling numb. Xander's words echoed all around her, and she knew that they were the words of everyone else. She was home, and yet she felt so alone. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry."

MAINE

                It was sometime past midnight and Jonny still tossed on his bed; the aches in his body had prevented him from patrolling tonight. He sat up and peered into the darkness. Reaching to the floor next to the bed, he picked up the sword. In the darkness, it seemed to glow.

                Sighing, he sat the sword on his lap and stared into the darkness. The quietness was unnerving and ironically he had always loved the quiet of the night. At least till recently.

                Tonight, the night sang with energy, a strange ballad of sorts; a cacophony of crescendos. His body was tense from the energy and he craved activity. To fight. To feel the rush of adrenaline. To tumble. To hit and be hit. 

                _This is nuts! _Jonny shook his resignedly. No one else would entertain his insanity. Save one.

                Jonny slid off his bed, pulling a t-shirt on as he padded his way towards the door. Bandit looked up for a moment, and then settled back on his place on the bed. He knew Jonny's footsteps by heart, the soft steps on the hardwood floor.  Jonny slid out of his room, and knocked on the door next to his.

                There was no answer at first, but a second knock got an answer. Seth answered. Jonny noted that his voice wasn't slurred with sleep. _Guess someone else couldn't sleep._

Seth pulled the door open, peering into the shadow. "Yeah?"

                Jonny didn't offer an explanation. "Wanna train?"

                Seth gave him an incredulous look for a moment. Then he grinned. "Sure. Give me a sec." He ducked back into the room and yanked on a red t-shirt.

                "Where did you learn to fight?" Jonny asked, ducking a blow from Seth's staff, wheeling his own around, preparing to strike.

                "Around, I guess." Seth shrugged, blocking Jonny's jab and moved in for his own attack. "I learnt from anyone who would teach me."

                "How many forms do you know?" Jonny jumped, avoiding a low blow and countering with an overhead strike.

                "A few. Karate, some Taekwondo, three forms of Chinese martial arts." He jabbed three times in succession, punctuating his statement and swept an arching blow. Jonny countered them easily enough. "Very basic fencing and some swordplay. Enough to get by, I guess."

                Jonny grinned. "That's a lot."

                Seth grinned back. "What 'bout you?"

                "All those, with some extra hours clocked in swordplay. Aikido to a certain extent, Thai kickboxing and erm… some street fighting." He grinned guiltily.

                "Why the guilt?"

                "Race didn't teach me those."

                "Who did then?" Seth tumbled to avoid a high blow and came up behind Jonny, staff firmly in grip.

                "I learnt from some street fights… ya know, dealing with some guys."

                "Not quite fair is it?" Seth questioned, a sparkle in his eyes.

                "Nope. But they were beating on some kid and I couldn't just sit there."

                "Ahh… the valiant hero."

                Jonny took a defensive stance. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

                Seth shrugged. "Nothing I guess. I admire your work ethic."

                "Which is?"

                Seth sighed. He ducked another blow, cracked one of his own. "You are so moral about your decisions, and yet… you have no problems cheating when you have to."

                "Sounds pretentious the way you say it." Jonny scowled a little.

                "Maybe 'coz it is!" Seth shot back, staff whirling in a large semicircle.

                "Reality of life." Jonny bit back.

                "So true… and yet you refuse to see it as so."

                "Excuse me! Am I not the one preaching this class?"

                "Yeah, and so?" Seth fired. "You don't believe in it enough."

                Jonny was puzzled. "You just said that I'm a cheater, but I don't believe in it?" His tone was incredulous.

                Seth signed timeout. "You're still making excuses for what you do… as if you need to justify them to everyone."

                "Don't I?" Jonny said.

                "You're the Destined One. You call the shots here. You don't owe anyone anything."

                "Out of decency, at least…"

                "That's up to you. But you don't have to explain your own actions to yourself."

                Jonny stayed silent. 

                "If you need to cheat to win your battles, so be it. Don't feel guilty about it. Now's not the time and this isn't the place for guilt. You've got a lot on your plate; no one's expecting you to clear it all… so ease up on yourself.

                "Big war on evil coming up, and you're still so bent out of shape over that Jessie-chick."

                Something snapped, and Jonny's staff shot out in a low sweep, toppling Seth. Seth's staff clattered to a corner.

                Jonny immediately fell to his knees to check his opponent. "I'm sorry… I just snapped."

                "You had reason to… as I had reason to bring it up."

                "What may that be?" Jonny sat next to the Chinese boy.

                "To show you your weakness."

                At Jonny's enquiring look, he continued, "Your emotions. Too often do you take things personally."

                "I loved her. It was personal."

                "And you're lucky to be alive for taking it that way. Rushing off in your headstrong way is not the solution to everything."

                "But it works for some," Jonny countered.

                "Fair enough." Seth whipped one long leg around, catching Jonny in the ribs. In the same fluid motion, he straddled the slayer and pinned his arms down. 

                "Remember that you've always got to be on top of things, even when you feel like the pits."

                "Duly noted." Jonny heaved and rolled over, taking his place on top of the more slender boy. Again, he was captivated by those eyes. His eyes passed over the sinewy body beneath his, taking in the muscles in the boy's chest as it heaved with each breath. He felt himself slipping away, falling to a place that he had only been with…

                He was acutely aware of Seth's hand on his cheek, running down to his neck, tracing a path down his sweaty chest. The touch burned through his t-shirt. He was drawn towards this boy, a beautiful boy, but a boy nonetheless. 

                His lips grazed Seth's. The sensation was intense, a thousand tingles shooting through him. It felt right, and yet he hated it. He wanted more, but he wanted more than ever to pull away…

                Jonny jerked away. "Sorry…" was all he managed to choke out before darting out of the room.

                Seth picked himself up, and calmly laid the staffs back in the rack. Straightening his t-shirt, he left the room, switching off the light as went.

SUNNYDALE

                Sunnydale High… as normal as any typical high school could get. That was, until you got to its roots… literally. Students milling about between classes, searching for the next cool thing. Today was no different. Fall was approaching, the winds were getting a little nippy, but that didn't stop the teens from skateboarding and simply just hanging out. Chillin'.

                Xander Harris sat on a bench, staring at the leaves above him. Ignoring his friend. His Willow.

                "Xand… will you please look at me," Willow pleaded, tugging her sweater tighter around her. The air was getting brisker, and Xander still insisted on staring at a tree.

                There was no answer from her friend. He continued to stare blankly above.

                "Alexander LaVelle Harris!" Willow snapped, slamming her hand on the tabletop. She was satisfied when Xander finally snapped back into the real world. 

                "Yeah, Will?" he asked, looking surprised at her outburst.

                "What's the matter with you? First you storm out of our video night. Now you sit here and mope about… and… and, it's cold!" she finished, stuttering in usual Willow fashion under Xander's gaze.

                Xander sighed. "I dunno, Will." He offered a weak smile.

                Willow felt her heart melt, despite the chill. How could she ever refuse that puppy-dog look, with his tousled dark hair and sad eyes?

                "I do," a familiar voice said. Both Willow and Xander turned to see Buffy at the side of the table. She smiled sadly. "I'm sorry you guys… for everything."

                She looked over at Xander. "I didn't have the right to run out on you… but I did and I can't change that. But I'm back…" she added hopefully.

                Xander smiled back. "Welcome home, Buffster," he said warmly, getting up to pull her into a tight hug. 

                "Friends?" the blond asked when he released her. Willow shook her head exuberantly, her face lighting up with joy. Xander simply shrugged. "We'll discuss the terms of agreement over a mochachino… your treat of course."

                Buffy punched him in the arm.

                Xander feigned pain and grabbed his arm. "Save it for tonight!"

                Buffy grinned. "Just getting some practice."

                "So, what does the G-Man have in mind for you tonight? Apocalypse? Vampire overload… which normally translates to apocalypse anyway." Xander quipped, picking up his bag and making for the indoors.

                Buffy shook her head. "Just the usual slayage… stake a few vamps and keep the town safe. Time for them to know that the Slayer's back in town!"

                "Amen!" Xander proclaimed, slapping Willow a high five.

                Sunnydale, home to twelve cemeteries and even more were already being planned. Hillcrest Memorial was one of the twelve. Like the rest, it was already overpopulated, tombstones scattering over the landscape. In the darkness, Buffy the Vampire Slayer hunted. Not quite alone. She was tailed by her extremely British Watcher who carried their arsenal for the night.

                "Did we really need that many stakes and crossbows?" Buffy complained. She scanned the area continuously, watching for any sign of demonic activity. Despite her title as Vampire Slayer, any malevolent entity was fair game too.

                "Better to be prepared than sorry," Giles replied, in his trademark British stuffiness. "Although I think I may have overpacked for the occasion."

                "You don't say," Buffy mocked him.  "Seriously, I don't think we'll find any vamps this way! You and all that clanky stuff in that bag!"

                "Well, just in case you wanted to know, we've found one." He pointed behind Buffy and smiled as he watched his charge whirl around with a massive kick.

                "Go for the kill!" he called, as he watched Buffy pound the crap out of the unfortunate vampire. He couldn't help but suppress a feeling of pride when he saw her execute an attack combo he had taught her before in precise, rapid-fire succession. 

                Buffy slammed a backfist into the vampire's face before staking it. 

                Giles had to resist clapping, putting on his most severe expression. "Go for the kill, Buffy! You do not have time to toy with one vampire if there is more than one."

                "But there isn't." Buffy smiled, twirling her stake like a baton.

                "Think again…"

                Buffy flipped the stake past her shoulder, skewering another lurker without looking. "No there isn't."

                "Had a good stake-out?" Xander cracked, bopping along gently to the music as they sat around a table. The Bronze was relatively quiet tonight and the gang was considerably free to talk. 

                "Ha ha!" Buffy sipped her Sprite and peered around. Willow was in her new favorite position, snuggled in Oz. Xander as usual was making eyes with Cordelia. Buffy smiled to herself, remembering when all the two ever did was glare at each other.

                "So, how did the patrol go?" Willow asked, giggling slightly when Oz nuzzled her neck. Buffy could not help but realize that her best friend was caressing the hand of her boyfriend, stroking the hairs at the back of his hand.

                "It was fine I guess. Staked two vampires in five minutes. Not quite a record, but not too shabby either."

                "That's cool," Oz offered, retreating into thoughtful silence. And more nuzzling.

                "So, what've you guys been doing?" Buffy asked, all too brightly. Looking around her, the answer was pretty obvious. Suddenly, she felt like a lamppost. A short one, but still casting too much light when all her friends wanted to do was cuddle in the dark.

                "Mm… nothing," came Xander's muffled reply as he pulled away from a deep kiss with Cordy. 

                _Even more proof. _

                Suddenly, she just felt tired. 

                "I'm turning in tonight, guys." She got up, pushing her half-sipped glass of soda forward. "Kinda wiped," she offered lamely.

                Everybody just nodded. "'Night, Buff. See you tomorrow!" Xander said, before attacking Cordy again. Willow offered her a smile and Oz just nodded. Cordy waved, under siege.

                Buffy took the long way home, daring any vamp to disturb her current train of thought. Her long coat caught a little in the brisk breeze, her boots kicking up clumps of dead leaves. The faint rustling was her only companion, filling the air with ominous whispers of the darkness. 

                Home. 

MAINE

                Hadji rifled through his notes frantically, pulling out several sheets of paper. He flipped the pages of a book urgently, his fingers flying down each page, scrolling for the desired information. Satisfied finally, he brought the sheaf of papers along with him to a big board. Several other sheets of paper were stuck on, and Hadji tacked these papers there too.

                "We were right," Benton noted from his position by the desk. Light streamed in from the skylight. Hadji smiled.

                "We were right!" he concurred more enthusiastically. He pointed to the 3-D photos that were projected from the desk. "The runes, they were all charms and protection spells."

                "Protecting from what?"

                Hadji shrugged. "Anything that shouldn't know of the place I guess."

                "Evil?" Benton volunteered.

                Hadji shook his head. "No, nothing like that. That chamber was not protected from evil."

                "How'd you know that?"

                Hadji motioned towards a wall in the photo. He enhanced the photo, enlarging the image enough for the text inscribed on the wall to be visible. "That's the best I can do, but the inscription is pretty obvious."

                "What does it say?" Benton squinted at the writing, trying to make them out.

                Hadji wrinkled his forehead. "From what I could make out, it had something to do with the origin of the original evil, and the expulsion of good from itself. It's all very complex, nothing very concrete. In fact, a good portion of it is all a bunch of gibberish to me."

                "What does that tell you?"

                "The place we were in, it wasn't just a place of good. There was evil there too… the runes guarded both good and evil."

                Benton digested this for a moment. 

                "I could be wrong…"

                "No, I think you're right," Benton said, smiling kindly. He studied the photos closely, trying to bridge the bits Hadji couldn't make out. 

                "I guess we could scroll the pictures around, just to get an overall view of the entire place." Hadji pressed and held a button, watching as the view began to swing clockwise.

                "Wait! Backtrack slightly, Hadji," Benton cried suddenly, gripping Hadji's arm. 

                Hadji did as he was told, swiveling the view slowly…

                "Stop, yes just there!" Benton's voice was high with excitement. "See that?" He pointed to a platform, a rocky ledge.

                Hadji squinted slightly, trying to make out the shape. "Looks like a podium or something of that sort. A shelf maybe." He noted, still squinting.

                Benton nodded. "And yet we didn't see anything there. Whatever it was that was there was no longer there when we arrived."

                "How sure are we that there had to be something there?" Hadji was puzzled, trying to refine the image further but only succeeding in fragmenting the image.

                "There was something."

                Both Hadji and Benton turned around to see Race stepping through the archway, his leather-bound journal in his hand. He walked into the Mediterranean style library, a worried frown creasing his face.

                "What was it, Race?" Benton's tone was laced with ice.

                Race ignored Benton's tone as placed his journal on the table. "Something bad!"

                "How bad?" Hadji asked, ticking a glance at his father.

                "Bad enough for us to start worrying."

                "That's bad…"

                "No kiddin'!" Jonny loped into the library, sling bag bouncing at his hip. 

                "What exactly is it?" Benton finally spoke, his eyes focusing directly on Race's.

                "The original evil in a book."

                "That's it?" Jonny asked. "A book? I mean, an evil book and all, but I'm not exactly quaking with fear here."

                "It contains the very essence of evil in script, and can endow anyone with amazing powers. Far beyond yours!" Seth stepped into the vast room. "Starting without me?" he asked, smiling impishly.

                "Okay, now I'm a wee bit nervous about this. Race, speak!" Jonny sat down, throwing a glance at the newcomer who sat casually in the next chair.

                Race cleared his throat casually. "As far as records indicate, the Book of Eternal Darkness was hidden from all mortal knowledge, in the place where it all began. It was placed in the chamber by several powerful mages, sorcerers and warlocks, each who endowed the place with their energy, protecting it. So great was the power output that they were absorbed into the very walls itself, forever to ward off unsuspecting eyes."

                "Then, how is it that you have the records?" Hadji asked.

                "All I have are patchy accounts. For a long time, several centuries, the book passed out of all knowledge. It was as though it was completely forgotten, it never existed in our time."

                "How did that happen?"

                "No one knows. It could've been any number of things. Some think that the spells cast by the magic users was strong enough to spread out all over the world, blanketing the memories with fog. Others think that all who had any possession of knowledge killed themselves, a valiant attempt to maintain the secrecy of the book and its whereabouts." Race took a deep breath. "Whatever it was, it failed to last forever. Sometime in the early first millennia, the location was found and the Watcher's Council sent twenty of their best men to retrieve it, thinking that it would be safer if they could find a way to destroy it.

                "Few returned, but they were successful, if that's what you could call it."

                "How few?" Seth asked, looking up.

                "Less then five."

                Seth whistled. "I guess we got lucky then, huh?"

                "Understatement of the millennia," Jonny quipped. 

                "Those that returned also reported the presence of another arcane artifact, one also thought to have disappeared from the face of the earth."

                "The Blade of Aefriol…" Jonny muttered.

                Race nodded. "But of course none of them being the Destined One, they were unable to remove the sword."

                "So, what happened to the Book?" Benton sat on the edge of the table, crossing his long legs.

                "The Book was indestructible by any means the Council had. It could not be physically destroyed, not by fire or by force. Sorcery was useless against it. The Council finally handed the Book to a Watcher, the Watcher of a Destined. They figured that if they couldn't destroy it, it would make more sense to pass it to someone who would have been able to guard it."

                "Why not the Slayer?" Jonny asked.

                "Because the Slayers were a random selection, and if one died, it would've been increasingly difficult to get the Book from the recently deceased Slayer to a new one. With the Destined, it was much easier as the gifts were passed down through the generations."

                "So, not only am I the slayer of demons, I'm an over-glorified bodyguard too?" Jonny mused incredulously. "Well, hey, the book's not here with me."

                Race nodded grimly. "It hasn't been in the charge of a Destined One for many generations now, disappearing at about the time of the Destined Ones in Ashqelon."

                "How many Destined Ones were there in Ashqelon?" Hadji asked, already keying in data into his laptop. 

                "Two I think. The first one simply disappeared from all records, but he was assumed dead as another boy stepped forth years later." Race rubbed his temples slightly. "The new boy had no known blood relation to the former Destined, but he did have the inherent gifts of the Destined One. He was not particularly effective… died at the age of…" Race furrowed his brow. "Sixteen."

                There was an ample moment of silence.

                "Got something here," Hadji announced, clicking his mouse twice and waiting for the display to come up. "I erm… hacked into the Watchers' Council mainframe. Apparently they're now online… I guess for them to keep in touch."

                Race came over and read. "Apparently the Council was more interested in the Destined Ones that they let on," he noted in chagrin. "There's a very detailed log on several Destined Ones, some are particularly interesting."

                "Any names?" Jonny asked, cracking his knuckles loudly.

                "The first Destined One, the one that disappeared. His name was Daerian Titopoq," Race read, scanning for info.

                "Daerian?" Jonny choked. 

                All eyes were on him, he could feel their gazes burning into him.

                "What about Daerian?" Race asked, turning his eyes away from the screen for a minute to focus on Jonny.

                Jonny took a deep breath. "I met him," he muttered.

                "How?" Seth asked, tapping his fingers on the table.

                "I fought him. Killed him."

                "He was a…?"

                "Vampire.," Jonny confirmed. "He turned Jessie." He blocked out Race's strangled cry. Turning around to face the others, he continued. "Guess we now know what happened to him. Dust."

                Hadji smoothed shirt unconsciously. "A Destined One turned vampire… he must have been a formidable foe."

                Jonny nodded. "Nearly killed me… a few times."

                "How old was he when he was killed?" Benton enquired, flipping through an old journal.

                "Couldn't have been any older then eighteen. Records are sketchy… the boy wasn't a highly regarded citizen."

                "He was a slave and gigolo?"

                "Good call. How'd you know?"

                "I have his Watcher's journal over here." Benton tapped the book lightly. "The age matches up and he was based in Ashqelon."

                "So we now know that he became a vampire. So what?" Seth ventured, looking around.

                "Not just any vampire. He became one of the most ruthless ones known to humanity. Not only did he have preternatural abilities, he had the training of a Destined One, making him more than just formidable in battle." Benton continued.

                "What about his heir?" Hadji looked up from the screen. "There's nothing here that shows how he is related to the next in line."

                "He was a gigolo… presumably the child was an illegitimate one." Benton kept his eyes scanning the pages. 

                "This is very interesting," Hadji said aloud.

                "What?" Jonny questioned.

                "I cross-referenced Daerian's description with witness testimonies and guess what? Our boy has been pretty busy disposing of Destined Ones." 

                "So he was eliminating his own lineage?"

                "It would appear so."

                "How do we know it's him?"  
                "Witness testimonies running back a few centuries. All taken by the Council."

                Jonny cleared his throat. "How is this relevant? I mean the guy's dust!"

                "That much may be true… but why would an ages old vampire bother with eliminating a sacred line of warriors? There has to be some other ulterior motive."

                "Maybe he just didn't want any interference. For whatever plan he had." Seth offered. 

                "But to spend years, centuries killing off Destined Ones… that's gotta be a real big plan. Plus, the health hazards aside, it's almost like he hated his own kin!" Jonny looked somewhat disturbed by the thought.

                "I still stick with my theory," Seth said, no sign of defiance or bitterness in his tone. 

                _He's not looking at me,_ Jonny realized. They had not made any eye contact since…

                "Okay, assuming that Seth is right, any idea on what this plan might be?" Benton closed the battered journal and slid it on the table. 

                _What is she going to do? End the world, somehow. _Jessie's words…

                "He was going to end the world," Jonny suddenly muttered. How could he have forgotten her words? 

                "How original!" Seth mumbled. 

                "If that's the case, wouldn't the threat be long over?" Race prodded.

                Jonny shook his head. "No. His partner is still out there."

                "Partner?" Race looked uneasy. Vampires were usually solitary creatures, partnerships were not unheard of, but exceedingly rare. Except for the unholy alliance of Angelus and Darla and their offspring, Spike and Drusilla, there had been very few others. 

                "Prumiva. His sire.  And I'll bet she has the book!"

                He felt the pressure of all their gazes one more. 

                "How did you know about the plan? And why did you fail to mention it till now?" Race demanded.

                "Jessie told me!" Jonny replied hotly. In truth he was more pissed off at himself than at Race for the interrogation.

                A moment of ample silence. The partners glared at each other; Destined and Watcher. 

                "When?" Race intoned. He meant the apocalypse.

                "I dunno."

                "Are you sure?"

                "Very!"

                "Anything else?"

                "No!"

                "Good!"

                "Fine!"

ISTANBUL

                "The Blade's gone, Father." A willowy Asian beauty conveyed. She flicked her black tresses aside as she spoke into a cell phone. Leaning her head sideways to balance the phone on her shoulder as she checked her perfectly manicured fingernails, she threw a glare at the restrained figure on a straight back chair. 

                "That displeases me greatly, my daughter." The rasp was definitely pissed. 

                "I'm sorry we disappointed you, Father. However, we do have something, or rather someone who might be of some interest to you," the brunette said, flashing her mirror image a smile.

                Anaya Zin held a pistol, aimed casually at the restrained woman's temple. She laughed softly, nudging Jade's head with the point.

                "Who is it?"

                "An old acquaintance. You remember Jezebel Jade, don't you?"

                There was a pleased chuckle on the other end. "Yes, yes… Jade."

                "Say 'Hi', Jade," Anaya purred, pulling off the rough gag.

                "You filthy son of a bitch!" Jade bit off.

                Melana laughed, a similar tinkle to her sister's. "Gag her, Sis," she commanded before resuming her conversation with her father.

                "Not that I'm not amused, dear Daughter, but of what significance is Miss Kenyon to us?"

                "Our sources reported that she had been snooping around, regarding the Blade."

                "Ahh…"

                "We thought it only logical to apprehend her for some… information." Melana's lip curled into a savage smile.

                "Very intuitive of the two of you. You have my blessing to do whatever that is required."

                "Thank you, Father." She ended the call, and walked over to Jade, her elegant boots clicking in sync with her staccato steps.

                "Now, Jade, we can do this my way or my sister's way." Melana motioned for Anaya to put away her gun. Both sisters stood in front of Jade now, their dark hair framing their lovely faces. Leaning forward, Anaya jerked the gag free roughly.

                "How 'bout we try it my way and I kick both your skanky asses!" Jade challenged.

                Both sisters laughed now, laughter laced with cruelty more than mirth. 

                "What? Afraid that an old girl might just trounce you two?"

                "Save it, Jade!" Anaya smirked. "As much as it would be fun to fight you, you're more valuable to us alive than dead."

                "Who said I had to die?"

                "Nobody, if you tell us what we want to know."

                "And what might that be?" Jade asked.

                "You know what it is that we want. So just cough it up and you might live to see another deal." Melana stared at her.

                "Sorry, girls, but I think you got the wrong woman."

                "Oh, I'm sure we didn't." 

                Jade spat out a glob of bloodied spit, and turned back defiantly to face her captors. Both sisters were beginning to look extremely pissed off. 

                "Give it up, bitch!" Anaya hissed. 

                Jade managed a crooked smile. "Face it girls… don't know a thing. Didn't find the bloody thing!"

                Melana dished out a savage backhand. "Liar!" she spat.

                "Takes one to know one." Jade reeled from the pain but she kept on her façade. "But take it or leave it, I have nothing you could possibly want."

                "Try us!"

                "See my backpack there?" Jade motioned with her head. "Open it and pull out the black book."

                Anaya marched over to Jade's worn out pack and fished out the book. It was nothing more than an address book. Enraged, she flung the book aside.

                "What exactly do you take us for?" she demanded. "Business rivals?"

                "It's a hard life being a criminal. Maybe you needed supplementary cash to pay for your Pradas." Jade snickered through clenched teeth.

                "Enough games! Tell us what we want to know!"

                "Which is exactly what anyway?"

                "The Blade of Aefriol! Where is it?"

                "Ahh… the Blade. As I've said before, didn't find the damn thing."

                Melana raised her hand to strike again, but Anaya caught it. "Leave her some time to consider her situation first. After all, we have all the time in the world."

                "No we don't!" Melana hissed. "We only have to the next solstice…" She trailed off when Anaya shushed her. 

                "We have plenty of time." Anaya assured her twin. "We'll leave you now, Jade. We'll be back tomorrow. Hopefully, you'll be more cooperative then."

MAINE

                "Benton!" Race hollered, striding down the carpeted hallway, a note of extreme urgency in his voice. "Benton!"

                Benton appeared at the doorway of his study. "What is it Race?"

                "The chopper we loaned Jade… it was found abandoned thirty miles off Washington!"

                Benton grinned. "Now, what would have happened to make her abandon the chopper?"

                "The pilots are dead!!"

                Benton's eyebrows shot up now. His sly grin was substituted with a concerned frown. "What?"

                "Both pilots were found with multiple shot wounds to the chest, close range fire."

                "So they were forced down?"

                "It would appear so. There were no signs of damage to the exterior of the chopper, except for the windscreen."

                "And Jade?"

                "Gone." Race was evidently distressed. "I-1 just called in, confirming the chopper as one of ours."

                "How long has it been?"

                "The bodies were cold… definitely been dead for over twenty-four hours."

                "Shit!" Benton muttered under his breath. That just made the situation about as complicated as it could get. Had it been merely a few hours, tracking would have been easier… but twenty-four hours or more of a lead was not good. They could've been almost anywhere by now!

                "Things just keep getting worse don't they?" Race laughed bitterly. 

                "We'll find her, Race." Benton patted his friend on the shoulder.

                "No, we won't…"

                "Race, we can't lose hope…"

                "I mean we won't. I will!"

                "No, we're in this together!"

                "You have the apocalypse to deal with."

                "Screw that… we owe Jade!"

                "What do we owe Jade now?" Jonny asked, stepping out of the shower, toweling his hair.

                "Jade's missing. We believe that it's possible that she's been abducted."

                "Just our luck! Aliens!" Jonny cried. Then in a serious tone, "Where do we start looking?"

                "We start by heading over to Washington first! Then we play it from there." Benton took charge of the situation. "Pack lightly, it'll probably be a short trip, but whatever it is, we cannot afford to be burdened by luggage."

                Jonny nodded and headed off to dress. He conveyed his father's message to both Hadji and Seth.

WASHINGTON

                "No signs of break in," Race noted, studying the exterior of the black chopper. The seats were stained and crusted with dried blood but the bodies had been removed. 

                "The autopsy reports indicate that both pilots died from multiple shots to the chest vicinity. All shots were consistent and did not destroy any other tissue." Benton looked up from the report he was reading. "They were professionals," he said. "They knew what they wanted, and they dispatched of the men quickly, no fuss about it."

                "No stray bullets either," Jonny reported, climbing out of the back seat. 

                "No obvious clues to who might have done this," Hadji said, after running a thorough scan of the perimeter. "All we know it that another chopper landed less than twenty feet away." Hadji pointed to the flattened grass. 

                "Another chopper. But that would mean that they had to land somewhere," Benton exclaimed, excited. "Did I-1 check all local airports for take-offs by any private planes within the last twenty-four hours?"

                Race nodded grimly. "I made them run one again before we left. Negative."

                "What about satellite photos?" Jonny suddenly asked.

                Race brightened immediately. "No one has tried that yet! Good idea!"

                Jonny hurried over to their car and plugged his laptop into the system. "IRIS, transmit all satellite pictures taken from the past twenty-eight hours from current coordinates."

                "Any luck?" Jonny looked up to face Seth.

                "Not yet," he said, slightly nervous from being so close to the other boy. 

                A silent moment passed between them before Jonny gave a whoop of victory. "Pop! Race! Come quick! I think we've got something!"

                There was a wild scurry as the image loaded in higher resolution. "Nothing… nothing… nothing… noth… There! Right over there!" Race pointed on the screen. Two black shapes appeared to be close to each other. The next few showed that the choppers had landed, and a black-clad figure was aiming what Race guessed must have been a gun. Then there was Jade stepping out, and the next couple of frames showed the shattered windscreen of the chopper.

                "Jonny, enhance the image," Benton said, peering hard into the screen. Jonny enlarged and refined the image of the figure holding the gun. 

                "Bloody hell…!"

                Hadji breathed one word: "Anaya!"

                "Who?" Seth asked, looking around for answers.

                "Anaya Zin. Daughter of a nutcase!" Jonny answered, not able to tear his eyes away from the image of one of Zin's beautiful daughters.

                "Crazy chick?" 

                "More like calculative femme fatale. And it gets better," Jonny said, turning away.

                "What?"

                "She has a twin," Hadji answered.

                "Another Nikita?"

                Hadji nodded.

                "That's bad."

                Jonny looked at Race. "We gotta bail Jade out!"

                "Your mission," Race reminded.

                Jonny grimaced. "Believe me, this is connected to the apocalypse. We find Zin, we find some answers. And I get to kick his ass!"

To be continued…

Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com 


	14. Chapter 14: Recon

From                       : Chihuahua

Date                        : 14th December 2003

Disclaimer              : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category                : A, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating                    : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note       : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

**RECON**

                "This just in. The Zin's chopped is in Toronto!" Hadji exclaimed. "A long way from Washington D.C. Guessing that's why the search didn't turn out any hits locally."

                "Okay Hadj, keep working on locating Jade. We'll see you in a while." Jonny snapped his cellphone shut. "The chopper's in Toronto," he said. "Funny that I-1 didn't check it out though," Jonny shot at Race. He narrowed his eyes. "Why is that Race?"

                Race turned away. "It's nothing that concerns you."

                "Try me anyway," Jonny challenged.

                "Not now, Jonny." Race waved the boy away.

                "Why the hell not?"

                "Because it's not something I feel like talking about now!"

                "Humor me!"

                Race glared at the boy. "You really have an issue with the word 'no' don't you?"

                "No, I have a problem with people holding out on me!" Jonny snapped back. "Especially people I trust!"

                Race deflated, defeated. "I-1, kid…"

                Jonny's expression did a double-take, first exasperation, then disgust.

                "What's I-1 got to do with this?"

                "Everything!"

                "Race… for the final time… I need to know what's going on!" Jonny cried, straddling a chair.

                For an instant, Race saw the kid he once knew, older, but still vulnerable. Then Jonny turned his eyes him, and all he saw was an angry young man, jaded and cruel.

                "Jade was once an I-1 agent too… a long time ago." Race paced the hotel room, peering out at the Washington D.C. skyline.

                There was no comment from Jonny, but a knowing look. 

                Race continued, "She was one of their best agents, I frequently partnered with her on our assignments. But Jade… she always had a mind of her own, and she began to question certain I-1 decisions."

                "So basically, she was a good agent, but a bad soldier?" Jonny quipped.

                "You could say that. I-1 saw her as trouble though, and she was dismissed."

                "You mean they tried to kill her…" Jonny prodded, his resentment reappearing.

                Race only nodded.

                Jonny laughed, a bitter laugh. Race shuddered slightly from it. The sound was harsh, mechanical and almost cold.

                "She escaped… has been on the run ever since. I-1 just gave up after a while, her file was burned, and everyone just assumed she was dead. So now that Zin has her… I-1 is not going to stand in between them."

                "It's amazing how I can still trust you! So what? You'd kill me too when I prove to be 'trouble'?"

                Race was silent.

                "Oh wait… you can't. If you do, no more Destined One. Isn't that right?" Jonny bit off. "With no known blood descendents still alive, you cannot afford to kill me off. Not yet anyway!"

                "Kid…"

                "Don't 'kiddo' me! I've had it, Race!" Jonny shrunk back. "I cannot keep playing 'Guess the Alliance' with you! If I-1 is that important to you… go now. Go before I snap your neck!" 

                "I've taken care of you since…"

                "And for that I'm forever grateful, but I can't…"

                "Shut up, and let me finish!" Race cut him off. "I've raised you… I've cared for you! My daughter was also raised by your father. You know who I'll stand with." His glacier cold eyes were moist.

                Jonny was silent for a moment, before throwing himself onto the older man. He hugged him tight, his tears flowing freely, finally. "Thank you, Race…" 

                "Silence… this cannot be good," Benton commented, stepping into the suite. He wiped his muddy boots before proceeding further into the room.

                "On the contrary, it could be the best thing that has happened," Hadji commented. 

                "Like what? They killed each other?" Seth said, noting the pristine condition of the room. "No broken furniture, lamps are all intact, no cracks in the walls. Nope, if they did fight, they took it outside."

                All three glanced at each other, and then ran to the balcony and peered over the edge. Thirteen floors below, the swimming pool was abandoned, the weather too cold for anyone. 

                "Thank God, they didn't…" Benton said.

                "We didn't what?" Jonny asked his father, coming out to look over the balcony as well.

                Benton averted his eyes sheepishly. "Never mind."

                Jonny grinned. 

                Hadji was suddenly alarmed. "Where's Race? You didn't…?"

                "Kill me? No, I'm still very much here." Race emerged from a room too, and joined the small company at the balcony. "What are we looking for?"

                No one said anything, and then burst out laughing.

                "Have you two finally made peace?" Hadji asked.

                "I'd say so, Hadj."

                "Any more info on Jade, doc?"

                "Managed to track down the Zins. It wasn't easy, Hadji probably broke fifty federal laws and Seth here violated about half a dozen just hacking into the airline databases. But we did it."

                "So, where are they now?"

                "Last checked, Istanbul."

                "Turkey?" Race exclaimed. "Why the hell would they drag her there?"

                "Three guesses," Jonny said, coming back onto the balcony wielding the Blade. "Zin wants what's mine." He smiled sardonically. "Let him try to take it."

***

ISTANBUL

                "Ready to talk today, Jade?" Anaya asked, stepping into the dim room. 

                Jade raised her head to glare at the woman. "Yeah, untie me and we'll talk pain!"

                "Still the stubborn Jade… Good to know that one night of tied-up captivity hasn't broken your spirit."

                "It's a little kinky for my style, this bondage thing…" Jade drawled.

                Melana stepped into the room. "Sister, let's do it my way this time."

                Anaya smiled nastily. "I've failed. Melana  will take over now, and I promise that you'll enjoy it far less than with me."

                "Oh, I'm sure of that. Pity though… your father was always such a gentleman."

                "Why, thank you, Jade!"

                Jade strained to see the source of the voice, although she knew well enough who it was. The Oriental accent was subtle in the smooth voice, which could be both courteous and condescending. Right now, it was the latter.

                "Father," both the twins said, bowing their heads slightly in deference.

                "Girls," Zin acknowledged, nodding. Turning his attention to Jade, he said, "I hope my girls have been hospitable."

                "Believe me, the treatment has been unbelievable," Jade replied.

                Zin looked pleased. "Now, Ms. Kenyon, would you be so kind as to reveal the whereabouts of the Blade of Aefriol?"

                "Can't help you there, Zin."

                "Ahh… I see the price isn't right. How about this?" He snapped his fingers at a man who stood in the doorway, who immediately came over, bearing a briefcase. Zin snapped the briefcase open, revealing stacks of money, arranged neatly.

                "Sorry Zin, I would love to help you, but even for such a pretty fee, I know nothing." 

                "You test my patience, Ms. Kenyon," Zin said, his smooth features shifting slightly.

                Jade peered into his slitted eyes, and for the first time in some time, she felt real fear. It was nearly tangible enough for her to taste.

***

SOMEWHERE OVER THE ATLANTIC OCEAN

                Jonny threw his biology book aside and stretched. He had an exam the next day, and he somehow knew that a rescheduling was in call for, but that would also mean no time to study anytime soon, and with all the classes that he'd been missing, he would need to ace the tests. Special exemptions were not acceptable, not by his own standards.

                _Where is everyone?_ He asked, looking around. It had just recently occurred to him that he had been left in silence for over an hour. He knew Race had to be piloting the plane, and his father was most likely with him, mapping out the best course of action. That left Hadji and Seth unaccounted for… and an hour of silence was slightly disconcerting.

                Almost by instinct, he began searching the plane for any slithery guests. Since the last time some ass had thrown an Egyptian cobra into the plane to wipe them out, he had developed a fear of picking up any unwanted passengers along the way. Finally, satisfied that there were no venomous creatures around, he straightened himself.

                Bandit whined at his feet, looking expectantly at his master's eyes, signing hunger.

                "Okay, boy. Food we will get! How you feel about salami?" He picked the small dog up and carried it to the small kitcher.

                Bandit whined softly and licked his master's face.

                "I'll take that as a yes," Jonny laughed, as the small pink tongue flicked his nose. Looking at his dog now, so unchanged by time, Jonny longed for the old times. Times of less pain and responsibility. Times of less predestined duties. Happier times.

                Setting Bandit on the floor, Jonny opened the humming fridge and scanned the fiberglass shelves for the promised salami. Spotting the meat at the back of the fridge, he pulled it out. Slicing the roll deftly, he set the slices of meat into a small bowl and placed it in front of his dog. 

                As he watched Bandit devour the thin slices, he was struck by his own mortality. He had always taken it for granted that Bandit would die before him, and he had spent most of his childhood preparing himself for the sad day. After all, everyone died. His mother had shown this to him. But now, with Bandit being immortal and him being a warrior of the times, he was positive that the roles had been reversed. Bandit would have to be the one to witness death.

                "Old boy, you might just outlive us all!" he said, scratching the dog behind his ears affectionately.  "And I _might_ just go next."

                Leaving the happy canine, he stepped into the vast cargo hull of the aircraft. The Quest vehicles were there this time, so that they would not have to waste time searching for transportation. There was almost absolute silence. _Almost._ He heard the slow rhythmic breathing of Hadji, most likely in one of his yogi positions, and the slightly sharper breathing of an inexperienced learner. 

                Stepping around the jeep, he saw both Hadji and Seth sitting cross-legged. Or at least Seth was sitting. Hadji had assumed a twisted handstand, his legs still in a neat bow. Hadji's forehead was coated with a film of perspiration.

                Across him, Seth was working on his breathing, slowing it, making it steady. There seemed to be a glow about him, a somewhat radiance. 

                "Yes, Jonny?" Hadji asked, his voice unaffected by his obscenely impossible pose. 

                "I was just looking for you guys. I thought everyone had abandoned the plane and left me with no parachutes."

                "Would we have left the Blade with you then?" 

                "Fair enough." Jonny ran his fingers down the hilt. He had since taken to wearing it strapped to his back, to ensure his permanent vigilance. "So, what are you guys doing? A little late for morning aerobics, isn't it?"

                "Meditation is all about concentration, my friend, a fact that I've repeatedly failed to drum into that thick head of yours." Hadji slowly lowered himself from his stance.

                "Yeah, whatever, Hadj. But meditation is not going to save any of us in times of crisis."

                Hadji opened his eyes and stared straight into his brother's. "But what will save you?"

                Jonny felt a shiver go down his spine, Hadji's words resonating in his mind. Shaking it away defiantly, he unsheathed the sword. "This."

                "The weapon is mighty, yes… but it is not strong enough to save you."

                "It'll do."

                The loudspeaker crackled to life. "Hey, guys, we're expecting some turbulence, so it would be better for you to get back to your seats." There was a faint pause, and then Benton's voice came through. "And Jonny, please remove Bandit from the cockpit!"

                Hadji got up, stretched his muscles and went on his way. Jonny looked at the still meditating Chinese boy.

                "Hey, Seth, we gotta go!"

                Seth blinked and then straightened himself. "What's up?"

                "Turbulence. Or at least we're expecting some, so Race asked us to strap in."

                The floor suddenly seemed to drop from beneath their feet, and even with his superior sense of balance, Jonny nearly tumbled forward. He reached out and grabbed Seth by his shirt, before the boy could smash his head on the numerous control panels. 

                "Come on!"

                "Lead the way."

                The plane was shuddering violently, and running was increasingly difficult. There was another violent dip. Seth fell forward and crashed into Jonny, and the two of them went down, rolling over with the turbulence. Seth ended up on top of the bigger boy.

                Jonny was silent, but he pushed Seth off gently and hauled himself up, and continued leading the way back to the seats.

                "Some turbulence," Seth muttered, steadying himself on a wall.

                "Yeah, damn storm!"

                Seth threw himself into his seat and buckled the belt. Jonny made his way to the front and collected Bandit.

                "Rough ride, boy!"

                "We're almost through," Race's voice crackled through the speakers again. 

ISTANBUL

                The streets were crowded, more crowded than Hadji had ever remembered. The sun was high, but the weather was thankfully fair, not intensely hot. They were now at the bazaar, streets lined with peddlers and stalls, and choked with sightseers and tourists. Studying his map, he grimaced at the number of crosses made on it. Divide-and-conquer was a good tactic, but it could also get very frustrating. 

                "Have I already mentioned that this is pointless?" Seth asked, after receiving yet another negative response from the locals. 

                "Keep trying… someone's gotta have seen Zin. Or at least his daughters." Jonny moved further down the crowded bazaar street to ask more people.

                "Hadji, any response from Race of Dr Quest yet?" Seth asked, walking over to the jeep where Hadji had been left to man the radio.

                "No." 

                "How the hell are we going to find them?" Seth cursed loudly.

                "This would be one way. That would be another," Hadji said, smiling broadly. He nodded in the direction of a sharply dressed man, getting behind the wheel of a black Mercedes. 

                "Who's he?"

                "I don't know, and I don't think I would care to find out. But follow him and I think we will find what we're looking for." 

                "How'd you know?"

                "Call it a hunch… but a suit when you are on vacation does not seem right. And there's also that gun sticking out of his jacket."

                He reached for the radio. "Jonny, I think we've got a lead. Get back to the jeep now!"

                "Roger!"

                Jonny appeared a few seconds later, leaping into the back of the jeep. "Seth, take the wheel!"

                "But why?"

                "If it's one of Zin's men, they're bound to recognize either Hadji or me, so you're our safest bet."

                Seth shifted over without another word, and Hadji clambered into the back and slouched low. "Have you ever driven, Seth?"

                "Do you mean legally?"

                "Yes."

                "No!"

                Hadji made some sound of protest but Jonny shut him up. "No choice, Hadj!"

                Seth shifted into 'drive' and followed the already moving car. "At least it's an auto."

                There was another strangled sound from the backseat. 

                "What about Race and Dr. Quest?" Seth asked from the front, making sure to keep a safe distance from the black car.

                "We'll radio them when we're sure."

                "Why not now?"  
                "If this is a false alarm, then it's better that they continue searching."

                "And if it's not?"

                "Then we'll deal."

                "Keep your eyes on the road!" Hadji hissed.

                "I've got this under control!" Seth laughed. He swerved slightly to avoid a mass of people.

                "EYES ON THE ROAD!"

                "Oh just shut up!"

                "We're here," Seth said, stopping the car and shifting into park. Jonny and Hadji straightened to look around. 

                "Typical. Zin would have to use a building like this!" Jonny exclaimed, taking in the dilapidated appearance of the building. The walls were crumbling and it was barely more than a skeleton of a building. It did seem stable though.

                "I'll radio them," Hadji mumbled, reaching for the radio. He flicked the tracking signal as well, to allow the others to trace them down. Seth peeked around the corner, to where the black car had parked. He heard a loud click and froze, he knew that sound.

                "Don't even think about moving!" a raspy snarl hissed. A hard push sent Seth hurtling at a wall. "On your knees!"

                Seth heard more guns being cocked, and he knew that the game was up; they were all down for the count. 

                "The Quest kids… how predictable."

                Jonny grinned. "You know us, we never disappoint!"

                "Shut your hole, wise ass!" Dour Face snapped, his gunpoint never really leaving its intended mark.

                Seth counted five men, all burly and definitely armed and dangerous. 

                "He's new," Slick noted, pointing his pistol at Seth. Something about his greasy hair made Seth want to dip his head in a bucket of industrial strength detergent.

                "Who cares? The boss will deal with him." Stone Face signaled with his gun. "Okay, maggots, on your feet. Try anything funny and I'll be leaving bits of you everywhere within a five foot radius!"

                "No kiddin'," Jonny snickered. "That's gotta be big enough to…" He received a sharp punch to his face.

                "Just move!" Raspy snarled.

                "Get a lozenge!" Jonny spat. But he moved and the others complied accordingly. 

                "Kid doesn't have the sword," Slick whispered to Stone Face.

                "The boss will get it out of him, no worries there." And a menacing grin spread on his hard face.

                "Was this in the plan?" Seth whispered to Hadji.

                Hadji shook his head, but motioned for Seth to shut up.

                The stairs were rickety, and once or twice, Jonny heard something snap somewhere. _Note, villains always choose the crummiest bases!_

                The landing was dim, only a few stray rays of light penetrating the dusty depths. There were doors on both sides of the narrow corridor, most were shut. Dour Face opened one of the doors and checked to make sure that it would be secure enough for the three teens before motioning for them to enter. He shoved all three of them into the middle of the room and stepped out.

                "Try anything stupid, and I will spell 'STUPID' with your guts!" he threatened before closing the door and locking it. 

                "We got the kids. They turned up, just as you guessed they would," Slick reported. 

                Zin smiled. He had been expecting the Quest Team, but this was definitely earlier than he had anticipated. No matter, it was just a minor issue that could easily be taken care of.

                "Excellent!" He rubbed his hands together in exaggerated pleasure and smiled at Jade. "Guess we won't be needing you anymore, Ms. Kenyon."

                Jade struggled to open a bruised eye. "Glad to have been of any service to you. So, what're you waiting for? Kill me!"

                Zin laughed. "All in good time, Jade. I'll deal with you later." He motioned for Dour Face to come forward. "She's anxious to join our other house-guests. Take her!"

                Dour Face unbound the slender woman. Jade tried to struggle, but her attempts were futile. Her injuries and fatigue had left her severely weakened. So weak that she could barely stand without collapsing. Grabbing her legs, he dragged her from the room and dragged her up the flight of stairs to the next level. Picking her up briefly, he hauled her into the room.

                Jonny tried to break her fall as she thudded heavily on the filthy floor.

                "Jade, can you hear me?" Jonny shook the woman gently, careful not to aggravate any injuries.

                "How is she?" Hadji asked, kneeling next to his brother.

                "Unconscious, for the most part, but I think she's pretty much intact. Doesn't seem to have any broken bones, but lots of bruises." Jonny rose. "Give her some room."

                "So, what now?" Seth asked, coming back from the barred window. "Place's rickety, but those bars are new. Guess Zin wanted a secure holding pen."

                Jonny moved to the window, took a deep breath and landed a solid kick on the iron bars. "No budge. If that's our only way out, we're very screwed."

                "So, are we screwed?" Seth asked.

                "Not really. We could try the door."

                "What about Jade? She will only slow us down in this state," Hadji said, pointing at the still form on the dusty floor.

                "Let me try something," Seth muttered, kneeling next to Jade. He placed his hands over her, muttering to himself.

                "What's he doing?" Jonny asked.

                "Healing her… he did the same for you, back at the caves."

                Seth's hands glowed with a luminosity that Jonny couldn't quite place. The colors were constantly shifting, and the light pulsed, growing in frequency and intensity. There was a sharp gasp, and then everything was shrouded with a light so brilliant that everything ceased to exist.

                "Okay, doc, found the jeep. But no kids."

                "If I know them, they're in trouble right now." Benton leaned over and switched off the tracking beacon. "At least Hadji had the common sense to switch that on."

                "How'd you know it was Hadji?"

                "Would Jonny have thought of it? And Seth probably didn't even know that the damn thing was there."

                "Any ideas where they went?"

                "I've got a pretty good hunch!" Bentom pointed above, at the window on the second floor. Pure light was pouring out of the window.

                Race reached into the backseat and snapped open a box the size of a small crate. "Here, take this." He handed Benton a pistol. "Semi-auto, know how to work it?"

                "I've watched enough," Benton smiled grimly. "Any extra ammo?"

                Race tossed him an extra magazine. "Let's just hope that we don't need to be packing that much heat."

                "It's Zin, Race," Benton reminded.

                "Stay behind me, Benton."

                "You know, I think it's time I demanded some heavy training in heavy-duty firearms," Jonny commented. "I mean, all this fancy footwork isn't gonna be of much use out there. They'll probably come at us, guns ablazing and all."

                "Well, sweetie, you're just going to have to move faster than they can." Jade was leaning on Hadji.

                Jonny turned his attention to Seth. "Can you walk?" 

                Seth looked up, feeling slightly dazed. "I'm not sure."

                "What happened?"

                "The healing… it takes a little out of me, that's all. I'll be fine."

                "I need you to be able to walk, or better, run out of here. Can you do that?" Jonny asked, feeling genuinely concerned. 

                Seth nodded. "I'll be okay."

                Jonny still looked a little dubious. 

                "I'm fine, go!"

                "Okay." Jonny went to the door and began hammering wildly on it. "Hey! Hey! Some help here!"

                "What the hell do you want kid?"

                "Jade, she's not breathing! Help her!"

                There was some laughing on the other side. "Yeah right kid!"

                "I tell you, she's not breathing," Jonny cried, still hammering frantically on the door.

                Hadji joined in too. "Please sir, we need your help here. She really needs help."

                "Piss off!"

                Zin stormed out of his room. "What is all the racket about?" he demanded.

                "The kid, sir. He says that the woman is not breathing."

                "Well, I could care less!" Zin stormed. 

                "Zin! Zin!" he heard the boy call.

                "Shut up kid!" Slick yelled, laughing.

                "Zin, if that's you, I propose a trade!"

                "Shut…!"

                "Let him speak," Zin snapped. "Very interesting strategy, Jonny Quest. I'm listening. What do you have to offer me?"

                "You want the sword, don't you Zin? The Blade of Aefriol?"

                There was no instant reply. "I'm interested young Quest. Now, what would I have to offer you?"

                "Jade needs help. You help her, and I'll tell you where to find the Blade."

                "You're a very intelligent young man," Zin said. "Anaya, offer your assistance to Ms. Kenyon, while I negotiate my terms with the young Quest."

                Slick and Stone Face positioned their guns while Melana unlocked the door for her sister. Pushing the door open, they aimed their guns inside. There was a blur of movement, and Slick felt his wrist being wrenched so hard that he heard the bones crack. Stone Face went down, holding his nose, whimpering in pain. Blood was gushing freely from his shattered nose.

                "Nobody moves!" Jonny said, pressing the gunpoint to Zin's temple. 

                "Anaya, kill them!" Zin yelled.

                "I don't think she's in the position to obey, Zin," Hadji said smoothly, pushing Anaya forward, gun to her back.

                Melana moved in for the attack, but Hadji cocked the gun. "I never liked guns, but that has never hindered my learning."

                "Watch out!" Jonny yelled, kicking Zin aside as he vaulted over a table, releasing two shots. Hadji turned to find Dour Face clutching his hand. The moment of confusion was enough for Anaya to slam her head backwards into Hadji's face, catching him offguard while Melana wrenched the gun free from his grasp.

                Raspy appeared from another room, his gun aimed at Seth when he felt a hard shove from behind. A hard blow to the back of his head and he was out for the count.

                "Starting without us, boys?" Race said, leaping into a room to avoid shots from Melana. 

                Jonny, seeing his chance, leapt up and grabbed Anaya by her neck and slammed her head into a wall, while kicking out hard at Melana's wrist. He felt a powerful blow to the back of his neck and tumbled forward, disoriented by the blow.

                "No one touches my daughters!" Zin glowered. He raised his foot to stomp on Jonny.

                Benton caught his foot and flung is aside, punching Zin squarely in the jaw. "Nobody touches my sons!" He kicked Zin hard in the knee, felling the man. 

                "Thanks, Pop!" Whipping his leg around, he caught Melana and pinned her to a wall, before snapping a kick to her head. Melana collapsed in a heap with a low moan.

                Grabbing Zin by the throat, Jonny slammed him hard on a wall, ignoring the bits of plaster that crumbled away. "Now, Zin, call off your men, and I won't snap your neck right now!"

                Zin laughed. "You won't do that, Jonny Quest. You're too much of a good…" He choked on his last words as Jonny tightened his grip.

                "Don't presume to tell me what I will, or will not do, Zin! I'm not sure if I'm that good." For extra measure, he tightened his grip, watching Zin squirm before loosening it again. "Now, we're gonna talk. I'm gonna ask some questions, and you're gonna answer them. Simple?"

                Zin nodded, his smooth face contorted with pain. Race even thought he saw a tinge of fear.

                "Now, call off your people!"

                Zin waved wildly at his broken army. 

                "Good. Now we'll start. What do you want with the Blade?"

                "My private collection!"

                "Wrong answer!" Jonny slammed Zin against the wall again, taking care to not knock the man out. 

                "Lady… wants it… powerful," Zin slurred, looking a little disoriented.

                "I see that pain is a very useful stimulus. Do I need to further arouse you?" Jonny asked, his lip curling back in a sneer.

                "No… wait."

                "Why?"

                "There's more."

                "Very good, Zin. I see that we're finally seeing eye-to-eye." Jonny glared at him. "Who's she?"

                "A vampire. A stunning young woman, almost ancient in lore though," Zin offered, some of his old bombast returning to him, now seeing that he would have to be spared for this bit of information.

                Jonny tightened his grip once more. "Don't play games with me, Zin. I want details. EXACT details!"

                "Such as?"

                "Her name? Description? Address? Anything that you know!"

                "She never told me her name."

                "Well, let's start with a description that shall we?"

                "Tall, dark hair, porcelain skin. Very voluptuous figure…"

                "Silken voice, elegant manners and brutal strength," Jonny finished.

                "That's her, alright."

                "Shit!"

                "Face it boy, she'll get the Blade somehow. And even if she doesn't… you can't stop her!"

                "What's that suppose to mean?"

                "She's got this plan, very evil, plan, if you understand me here."

                Jonny choked Zin again. "Try me!" 

                "Didn't get the whole thing, but it involved merging the realities, ripping through the fabric of time and space. It sounds very technical now, but it was very mystical when she enlisted our help."

                "Our?"

                "Didn't think that I would do this alone… did you?" Zin laughed. "You might want to put me down now, Master Quest. It would be unwise not to do so."

                More guns clicking into position in the background. Far too many to have been manned by all the rest. Turning slowly, Jonny saw that they were guns sticking out of every door, and his back had been pinpointed with at least a dozen red dots.

                "Bloody hell," Jonny muttered, dropping Zin. 

                Zin got up, massaging his sore neck tenderly. He smiled nastily at Jonny. "Looks like everyone else is on their knees, with their hands up, Master Quest. Why don't you join them?" Moving swiftly, he swept Jonny's feet off from under him, kicking him as he went down.

                "Now, it looks like I've got the upper hand, Jonny Quest!"

                "Don't get too cocky, Zin. The kid had you!" The redhead stepped up to Race. "Race Bannon, still so handsome… still so annoying!" She kicked him aside and came up to Zin.

                "Nonsense! It all went according to plan."

                "What was _your_ plan anyway, Dr, Zin? Divulge all _our plans to the Quest Team before dying?" A motorized wheelchair pulled up, nudging Anaya aside._

                "No, it was to get the entire Team together, so we could properly _manage _them." Zin smiled. "And look around, we've got the renowned Dr. Benton Quest, his trusty muscle, Race Bannon, whom we all hate, and even the Sultan of Bangalore! And a new addition, I see."

                Seth looked defiantly at Zin. "How did a dude like you end up with daughters like that, anyway?" He snickered. "Damn, the mom must have been fine!" His head snapped back from the hard punch Melana dealt him.

                "Zin, why are we letting them live?" A cloaked figure demanded, pushing his way forward. There were ugly scars covering the entire expanse of his neck. A skeletal mask covered most of his face, but there was no mistaking the extent of scarring there too. His black trench billowed majestically as he marched. 

                "Rage?" Jonny exclaimed. "What happened? All of you just decided to form some kind of alliance?" he moaned.

                "Silence, scourge of hell!" Rage slammed his book into Jonny face, knocking the boy back. "You will all burn in the eternal flames of hell for all your crimes. So it is written in the Book of Rage!"

                "Patience, we will deal with them when the time comes, but first, we need the weapon." Zin patted the man on the shoulder. Turning to Jonny, he raised his finely arched eyebrows. "So, Master Quest, will you kindly tell us where you put the Blade?"

                "I rather take my chances with him!" Jonny jerked his head at Rage.

                "So be it. In time, you will see that I'm the most civilized negotiator here." Zin smiled and walked away.

                "A madman, bedridden megalomaniac, or a bald clown… I'm not sure if that's much of a compliment." Jonny received another hard punch from Julia for his snide remark. "Although I think the clown had a point."

                "How long has it been since they entered?"

                "Ten minutes, sir."

                "Too long. Arm your men, we're going in!"

                "Roger that, sir."

                Lieutenant Caine set aside his radio and signaled for his men to arm themselves. "Move it, move it! We're moving in, now!" He armed himself and rechecked his weapons. "We've to be fast and precise, boys. _Clinical_!"

                "How many hostiles, sir?" One of his five men asked.

                "The number is still uncertain, but we approximated the number at ten."

                "But…"

                "Look, shut up and do your job! Questions aren't going to get anything done!" Caine snapped. In a softer tone, he added, "It near enough to suicide, boys, but we have to get the boy out."

                No one said anything but each man double checked his weapons.

                "Move out!"

                "Run."

                "What?" Jonny looked incredulously at Seth.

                "Run." It was a simple command. "You'll make it."

                "None of you will."

                Seth chuckled. "You still don't get it, do you? It's part of my package. I signed up for death when I came here. It doesn't matter to me."

                "What about the rest?"

                "Casualties."

                "You're insane!" Jonny snapped. "No one's going to die."

                "Very well said, Jonny Quest! Let's just hope that you're a better prophet than a thinker."

                "Don't worry, I intend to keep that promise."

                "So tell me where the Blade is."

                "Does Surd walk in your delusions, Julia?"

                Julia raised her arm to strike Jonny, and Jonny anticipated the blow. It never came. There was a loud shot, and a cry of pain, and the warm splash of blood on his cheek. He saw six armed men crashing in, M-16s ablazing. One by one, Zin's men were taken out. Jonny stared in shock as Slick collapsed next to him, his head blown open. His body was still convulsing, splashing in his own blood. Jonny turned aside and retched.

                He looked around and saw Julia dive into a room. Then there was the rhythmic beat of a helicopter's blades. "They're getting away," he managed, weakly. He nudged Slick away from him. All around him, the smell of fresh death was pungent. Slaying vampires was one thing, watching men killing men was another.

                "You okay?" Benton asked, turning his head away from the corpse. "It's not your fault."

                "I'm death, Pop. I kill things… and people always die when they're with me." He looked at the corpses all around. "I shouldn't even care that they're dead, but I do. They're dead because of me! It's what I do. Kill!" 

                The rapid gunfire had ceased. "Hostiles eliminated, sir. Zin got away!" Caine reported.

                "Zin, Rage, and Surd got away," Race corrected. "And you might want to throw in the twins and Julia too."

                Caine gave Race a withering look. "Shut up, Bannon! You violated overstepped your responsibilities and put the kid in jeopardy!"

                "You're here aren't you?"

                "This never should have taken place!"

                "The kid wouldn't have listened."

                "Which is why we're taking him!" Caine shrugged Race aside. "Move it boys!"

                "You can't take…" A heavy fist landed in his stomach and another blow clocked him hard in the face. Race fell on his knees, dizzy from the blow. 

                "Move!"

                "You can't take him." Jade grabbed his arm and twisted it. 

                "Feel lucky that I'm not blowing you full with holes!" Caine spat, slamming Jade into a door, and kicking her into the holding room. He aimed his rifle at Hadji and Seth. "Be smart. Walk in."

                Hadji cursed softly, but pulled Seth up from the ground. He shoved the protesting boy into the room. Caine slammed the door shut and bolted it.

                Benton stood up and tried to shove the five men aside. "You're not laying a finger on my son!" he warned. Seeing that his words carried no weight, he lashed out furiously and caught two men by surprise. The other three secured him.

                "Step aside, Dr. Quest!"

                "Over my dead body!"

                "That could be arranged, but it will take up too much time." Caine raised his M-16 and knocked the doctor unconscious with the butt. "I always thought he was a pain in the ass!"

                "Not as bad as I'm gonna be." The voice was low, menacing. Caine looked up too see two of his men go flying down the corridor. The third one was less lucky as Jonny kicked him out of an open window. The man's screams were cut off by a loud crash.

                "You want me, come and get me. But you will risk more casualties than you can explain." He whirled so fast that all Caine saw was a dark blur. Another man was dispatched brutally, rapid gunfire puncturing the ceiling. Chips of plaster showered down.

                Caine raised his gun in panic. 

                "No!" Race leapt at Jonny. "Stop now!" He jammed a syringe into Jonny's arm and forced the contents down. 

                "What the fu…?" His sentence slurred off as his eyes glazed over. "You…" He fell senseless.

                "Good work, Bannon."

                "I'm going with you. The kid will remain in my custody!" Race pushed pass Caine. His icy glare convinced Caine of that fact.

                "Fine." He barked a few orders to his struggling men and turned away. "We've secured the boy, sir. Send the chopper!"

                Race hoisted Jonny and carried the still form down.

                "Never thought you would be a traitor, Bannon." Caine chuckled.

                "I never was."

To be continued…

Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com 


	15. Chapter 15: Power

Date : 7th May 2004

Disclaimer : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category : A, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating : Parental guidance is advised. Some profanity in this chapter.

Author's note : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

**POWER**

FLASHBACK

"It's amazing how I can still trust you! So what? You'd kill me too when I prove to be 'trouble'?"

Race was silent.

"Oh wait… you can't. If you do, no more Destined One. Isn't that right?" Jonny bit off. "With no known blood descendents still alive, you cannot afford to kill me off. Not yet anyway!"

"Kid…"

"Don't 'kiddo' me! I've had it, Race!" Jonny shrunk back. "I cannot keep playing 'Guess the Alliance' with you! If I-1 is that important to you… go now. Go before I snap your neck!"

"I've taken care of you since…"

"And for that I'm forever grateful, but I can't…"

"Shut up, and let me finish!" Race cut him off. "I've raised you… I've cared for you! My daughter was also raised by your father. You know who I'll stand with." His glacier cold eyes were moist.

Jonny was silent for a moment, before throwing himself onto the older man. He hugged him tight, his tears flowing freely, finally. "Thank you, Race…"

"We could still use I-1, though."

Jonny pulled back. "How?" His eyes were wary.

"I know what it's like in there. It's a fortress; nothing gets in, nothing gets out."

"I'm still not seeing the plan here."

"Look, Jonny. You're the Destined One. There's nothing more dangerous to the demon community than you, at least on this side of the continent." Race paused, letting his words sink in. "You're a prime target…"

"Everybody wants me dead," Jonny quipped.

"Yes, and you need to be protected."

"Why?" Jonny demanded.

"As you've already conceded… you're too valuable right now. No heir, no one to carry on the bloodline."

"And so you want me to hide!" His tone was accusatory.

"Not hide, just lie low for now."

"What's the difference, Race? If I'm going to die, it's gonna happen anyway."

"Not while you're in I-1 HQ!"

"That's like walking into the mouth of the beast!"

"You're an asset to I-1, Jonny. We're still on the same side!"

"Screw sides!"

"Then you're all alone!"

"So be it!"

"Jonny, please, consider it."

Jonny saw the pain in his mentor's eyes. _He really does care,_ he realized. "Tell me about this plan," he muttered gruffly.

"You stay at HQ, train for while, work on your skills. Just till we know exactly what we're up against."

"Let me think about it." The front door of the suite opened. Jonny could hear the rest coming in.

"We don't have time to…"

"Let's do one thing at a time. Save Jade, then we'll talk about it."

Race slumped, defeated. "Okay."

"I can leave whenever I want?"

Race nodded. "You won't be a prisoner."

**JQJQJQ**

He fell… again.

Every fiber of his being ached with tearing intensity and it was all he could do to drag himself back to his feet. Another blow struck him from behind; and yet another powerful swing to the back of his knees.

He collapsed once more, growling ferociously. "Get away from me!"

His shoulder burned from an awkward fall, and a deep graze down his naked chest was bleeding profusely. "What do you want?" he gasped, reeling in pain as another blow struck his head, opening a new gash at his hairline.

No reply.

He ducked another blow, deflected a sharp jab… and took one to the gut.

* * *

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

Corvin turned around and faced a furious Race. "My job."

"What's that exactly?" Race demanded, shoving his superior.

"Testing the boy."

"What exactly are you testing him for right now? Checking to see if he bleeds? If he feels pain?" Race glared. "Or is he even human?"

"We're testing his reflexes… and quite frankly, Bannon, your boy seems to be falling short of expectations."

"He's not an animal, Corvin! Even if he was, this is gross…" He pointed out of the viewing window, onto the scene below. "… even for I-1!"

"He is given the liberty to defend himself."

"Your men have no bloody chance with him…"

"On the contrary…"

"No, Corvin. They have NO chance…" He pointed out again. "Look!"

* * *

Whack. Jab. Kick. Shove.

He had no idea what he was doing, all he knew that it was working…

Grabbing another cattle prod, he whipped the weapon violently, catching one of his 'tormentors' off guard as it cracked on his skull. Ignoring the bout of nausea that threatened to wash over him, he sank deeper into his routine of defending himself.

Another kick sent one more man flying, while a hard punch opened a wound in another. Straddling one now, raising the rod above his head to deal a fatal blow… he heard.

"JONNY! LET HIM GO, JONNY!"

"Race?" He looked around, slightly disoriented. "Where are you?"

"Here. Look up, yes. Can you see me?"

Jonny smiled, and then his smile turned sardonic. "I see you alright!" he spat, pulling back, he launched the prod straight at the window, watching as it shattered through the glass, striking Corvin.

"I see you, you spineless bastard!" Getting up, he ran towards the observation center, screaming insanely.

* * *

Corvin hit the intercom button, gritting his teeth from the pain that shot up his arm. "All units, secure subject immediately!"

"NOW!" he yelled, as he saw the furious young man speeding over.

* * *

Jonny felt the twin pricks on his back, and his first thoughts were about vampires. Then, the faces slowly morphed into that of Corvin, as he vision blurred. Not for the first time in the past twenty-four hours, Jonny felt heavy, sodden and clumsy. His world seemed to spin and dance about, jerking his balance into jeopardy.

With a low moan, he collapsed, crumpling heavily on the cold concrete. He remained conscious for a few seconds, peering at the world with glazed eyes. Then, he succumbed to the powerful tranquilizers.

* * *

"Where's Bannon?" Corvin marched into the room, an ice-pack still clutched at his arm. The contact had been heavy, and there was a lot of internal bleeding. _Gonna be one helluva bruise._

"Here!" Race answered, marching into the room.

"Your boy…"

"You better not have touched him in my absence!" Race warned.

Corvin smiled, an incredulous expression. "Believe me Bannon, my men want nothing to do with him after that… erm, display of violence."

"Good… keep it that way."

"But that's not the point."

"What is?"  
"We've decided to place the boy in your care, as he clearly still listens to you… if only to hurl projectiles."

"I accept the responsibility."

"I thought you would say that. I wish you the best of luck, Bannon. You'll need it."

"_We_ will need it," Race corrected. "You know as much as I know, Phil… the signs of apocalypse are manifesting all over the world."

Corvin ignored the comment and continued to ice his arm.

"Oh, and Corvin. The next time, I won't call him off!" Race marched out of the room.

* * *

"You know what's ironic?" Jonny said, looking out of his clear prison. "Maximum security, minimum privacy. I feel like a bloody goldfish!"

"I could ask for some drapes if that's what you really want," Race volunteered.

"And cameras all over the place. What's this: I-1 or a voyeuristic dungeon?"

Race snickered. "It does seem a little kinky."

"A little?"

"Just don't do anything you don't want posted on the Internet and you should be fine."

"Real funny!" Jonny paced. "Here's what's not funny! You betrayed me!"

"Had to kid, had to keep you safe."

"So you tossed me into the shark pool?"

"You'll be safe here… till the time comes."

"I don't need to be safe, Race. My life's dangerous, I've accepted that."

"It's too risky out there now. God knows how many loons are out to get you, make sure you don't interfere with the coming doom."

"Like there aren't enough in here."

"Gave Corvin a nasty bruise, kiddo." He smiled.

"Yeah well, he gave me a few back." Jonny pulled up the tank top he was wearing to show the myriad of healing bruises. "You would think that some crackhead painted his version of the Bahamas all over my body."

"You'll live."

"I wanna leave Race, not live."

"In due time."

"Anytime soon? Getting rusty here, ya know." He gestured to his hairline where a scab had already formed.

"You can train here, Jon."

"Where? In this fish bowl?" He laughed. "And even if I could… gonna need weapons to work with Race. A Destined One without his weapons… even Ang Lee couldn't make it work."

"If you promise not to go berserker again, I can get you access to some weapons. Nothing high-tech or anything, just your basic staffs and stakes."

"Cool."

"So you promise?"

"As long as you keep those cowboys away from me, I'm good."

"Fine."

"When can I start?"

"Tomorrow, if I can push it."

"Apocalypse coming, Race. Don't see what's wrong with today."

"Bureaucracy, that's what."

"Great, the world ends because you need to file to appropriate paperwork?"

"Something like that."

"That's whack!"

* * *

"I thought I said 'no cowboys'," Jonny grumbled.

"They're just there for security purposes."

"Meaning that they'll shoot me if I try anything funny."

"Only with tranqs."

"That's just so comforting."

Race grunted irritably. "Just forget them and concentrate on your stretching!"

"Already done. Had nothing to do this morning so did a whole buncha crunches, stretches, jumping-jacks… the whole playground routine."

"Well, stretch a little more. Training's gonna intensify."

"Bring it!"

* * *

"Is that it?" Jonny taunted, breathing heavily. _Crap… that was hard! I'm actually winded. _

"For the day, yes."

Shrugging, Jonny tossed his staff across the chamber. He had to admit that the facilities here were pretty sweet, a lot more room to move about without having to worry about crashing into the dining room.

"Head for the showers, kid!"

"You mean I'm allowed to?" Jonny reacted in mock horror. "But that would make me human."

"Even animals bathe, Mr. Quest." Corvin's voice interrupted.

"Yeah, and animals also have a pretty good sense on character. And to think that I _liked _you. Guess what I feel about you now."

"Stand down!"

"I'm not one of your flunkies!"

"I said step down!"

Jonny lunged forward, but Race stopped him.

"Not now." His voice was cold, quiet.

"What'd you want, Corvin?"

"We would like to commend on the impressive training session we watched."

"Good. Next time we'll arrange for me to leap through hoops."

"Go shower, Jon." Race gave Jonny a little push. "Now!"

Jonny left.

"What happened to your threat, Bannon?"

"You're a foolish man, Corvin, if you thought that I control the boy."

"Don't you?"

"I didn't bring him up to follow orders. His father brought him up to _think!_"

"Still, he listens."

"He respects me, Phil."

"Even after your betrayal?"

Race stormed away.

**JQJQJQ**

MAINE

"I can't believe you did that!" Seth exclaimed, storming up the stairs. "He's your son!"

"Exactly! That's why I did what I did!"

"What? Just cart him off that way?"

"Look, I don't have to explain my actions to you!" Benton shot back angrily. He challenged the boy to say more.

"But you do owe me an explanation, Father." Hadji's voice was cool, collected. But there was an edge of detachment in it, a certain ring of disappointment.

Benton looked at the faces that stared at him, twin masks of hurt and anger. It was too much… to give up one child, and be hated by another. Tears ran down his cheeks in silence.

"He had to be protected…"

"He's the Destined One! He doesn't need to be protected…" Seth started.

"Maybe not from demons and vampires. But you saw what happened in Istanbul. He could've been killed… many times over." Benton drew a deep breath.

"He's always been in danger, Father. _Our_ lives are in constant danger. Why now, Father? What changed?" Hadji reached out and placed a supportive hand on his father's shoulder. He gazed understandingly into his father's eyes, saw the pain that dwelt there. Felt it.

"I'm his father," Benton said, his voice a dull whisper, his statement not intended for a specific audience. "I'm supposed to protect him… be able to shield him. I failed…"

"You have never failed him, Father."

"Look. I'm sorry if I'm stepping out of line here, but from what I've seen, Jonny loves you." Seth took a few steps down. "Sir," he added.

"I can't protect him anymore… Not from the darkness… not from what lurks there, waiting. Waiting for him. Waiting for him to slip…" Benton paused, regaining his composure. "This was the only way I could… help."

"But I-1…"

"I know… but he would be safe there… at least for now. Who knows what horrors might get to him out here?"

"Hiding him from his destiny isn't going to help, Dr. Quest."

"I know, but it'll do for now. It's not permanent, just until we know what we're up against."

"Might be too late by then."

"What'd you mean, Seth?"

"All I'm saying is that I-1 always wanted Jonny. Now that they've got custody, I'm not quite sure if they'll be willing to let him walk out."

"What'd you think, Jade?" Benton turned to face the raven-haired woman who had been silent all this while.

"You know my history with I-1, Benton. What I say isn't gonna be worth much, unless you feel the same way I do."

"Just run it by me anyway."

"I-1 fights the good fight… but Corvin, I'm not so sure about him. His agenda is some major crap, if you ask me."

"Good enough."

"So, what now?" Seth looked about.

"Now, we get him out." All eyes turned to the front door. Race stood in the doorway, his silhouette lax.

"I don't think that'll please Corvin at all," Jade mused.

"To hell with Corvin. Jonny's there to be protected, but I-1 can't protect him from Corvin."

At that, Benton bolted forward. "My son's in danger?" His voice was edged with glass, sharp and hard.

"He's not exactly dancing in petunias is all I'm saying."

"Then we get him out!"

"I'm with you on that." Race cracked his knuckles loudly.

"Any ideas on how to get him out?" Seth asked, raising his eyebrows.

Race looked at Jade and smiled. "You know how I said that nothing could get in and out, undetected?"

"He lied," Jade said, coming forward. "And we've got the experience."

**JQJQJQ**

SUNNYDALE

Buffy Summers fell hard, grazing her palms on the asphalt. Rolling aside, she felt the sudden rush of air pass he head; a foot had just landed heavily next to her head. Spinning on one hand, ignoring the pain, she swung her legs in a corkscrew motion, taking the vampire down. Landing neatly on her feet, she stomped hard on the vamp's hand, feeling his wrist crack under her heel before leaning in for the kill.

Her stake hit the mark and the vamp dusted.

"Getting sloppy there, Buff." Xander came out from behind the post box. "Almost got your head stomped in."

"And of course, you were of great help, as usual," Buffy shot back, smirking.

Xander took a bow. "Always here to assist."

"Then duck."

"What?"

"Duck!"

Xander ducked and Buffy kicked a vampire in the face. Vaulting over her friend, she slammed the stake into the vamp and watched it dust.

"You've officially earned my respect again, Buff."

"Glad to hear. Now how 'bout you buying me that mochachino you owed me?"

"Deal."

"A happy Slayer is an efficient one."

**JQJQJQ**

Thirteen black candles set in a circle. Each black flame flickered, an onyx glow in the gloom. With a dagger, Prumiva carved runes and glyphs of several dead tongues in the earth, spilling the blood of a white goat into each. She smiled as she watched the blood seep into the thirsty earth, forming a muddy-red paste.

"The board is set. Time will tell…"

Standing up, she gazed at the starry sky. "By the stars, I will have what's mine…

"And good will bleed into oblivion!"

**JQJQJQ**

_The Earth will rend and tear_

_ The heavens will bleed_

_ The Forgotten will be Reborn_

_ The Old will walk again_

_ The new coming is nigh…_

Giles flipped through a journal, his forehead crinkled in concentration. Seeing what he was looking for, he sat the leather-bound tome aside and picked up another.

"This is not good!" he muttered, tapping a pencil nervously on his desktop while he perused the text, taking in the spidery script and comparing the contents simultaneously in his head. "Indeed, not good at all."

The sudden influx in demonic activity over the past two weeks had started to worry him, but his discovery was a whole lot more disturbing to him.

"What's not good?" Willow walked into the library, Oz in tow. He received a silent nod from Oz, standard greeting.

"This prophecy."

"Another one?"

"It's not like I conjure them up, Willow," Giles said, a little more stuffy than he had hoped for.

"Lighten up, Giles. I just meant that there have been quite a few ominous thingies coming up recently."

"And I'm here to stop the baddies!"

Giles looked at his charge. "Ah, Buffy, excellent. There's a new…"

"Prophecy? Yeah, heard than a new one popped up. Let's have it."

"It seems the world's going to end."

"AGAIN?" All of them chorused, Oz included.

"So, what's going to happen?"

**JQJQJQ**

MAINE

"Well, according to this, the ground will split, the heavens will bleed, whatever that means, and I think there's some hint that the Old Ones will emerge again."

"The Old Ones?"

"Ancient demons, in their pure undiluted form. Most of them were huge. And very territorial. Very feudal."

"Wonderful, as if the bite-sized ones weren't bad enough!" Seth rolled his eyes.

Hadji glared at the boy. "I'm just translating literally from the text. You want my job?"

"What for?"

"Boys, shut up!" Jade leant in to separate them. "Not exactly constructive."

"Sorry," Seth muttered, walking away.

"So, I'm assuming this will happen if Prumiva uses the book to unleash the forces of darkness," Benton ventured.

Hadji nodded.

"Doesn't leave us with much of a choice does it?"

"No. Which is why we need to get Jonny out."

"Working on that."

"Do the journals suggest the vicinity of all this?"

"It's a worldwide thing. But it has to start somewhere. A hotspot for evil."

"The Hellmouth!"

"Which one?" Seth asked. He looked back evenly when all eyes were on him.

"There's more than one?" Hadji asked.

"Yeah. There were many more a long time ago, but many have been closed. Destroyed."

"How many active ones remain?"

"Well, there's this one coming up in Rockport… and there's one somewhere in California I think. And a few more scattered around the world."

"So we now we have to locate the one at which Prumiva's going to use."

"Slash this one off." Seth walked over to the large map of the world that hung on the wall.

"Why?"

"Because she knows that Jonny's on this one. She'd go to an unguarded Hellmouth. Makes her life a lot simpler."

"Or at least one without a guardian that she's heard of."

"Didn't Jonny say that the Slayer was from California? Sunnyville or some really cheery sounding place?" Seth asked.

"Sunnydale," Hadji affirmed.

"She'll probably hit there."

"But she's heard of the Slayer. Met her even."

"But she doesn't know where the Slayer's based. Chances are she'd head there. And even if she did, she's probably arrogant enough to think that she can bring down the Slayer in a catfight!"

"Is that strong enough evidence to suggest that Sunnydale's the most likely venue?"  
"Maybe not. But there's another reason."

"What?"

"Geography."

"Huh?" was the general response.

"This dame was last spotted in San Fran. Sunnydale's much closer to San Fran than say Rockport or any of the other Hellmouths that might litter the States."

"Kinda makes sense… unless there's a closer one."

"I don't think there's one."

"Can you be sure?"

"Not now, but I can be by tomorrow morning."

"How?"

"Gotta call my mom."

**JQJQJQ**

OUTSIDE I-1 HEADQUARTERS

"You sure this will work, Bannon?" Jade wriggled closer, ignoring the itch that was plaguing her belly.

"We've done this before. Just the two of us."

"Ahh… old times. Good times." She smiled.

"Yeah, but this has to be surgical. Clean and precise. In and out."

"Ooh, I like it when you talk dirty."

"Could the two of you quit with the sex talk? In case you didn't realize, the skinny kid isn't all that interested in your past-times." Seth groused, crawling up to the two of them.

"Hey, you could have stayed home, Junior."

"And miss busting into I-1? No way!" Seth fell silent.

The sky was dark, a spray of stars here and there, but no moon. They were on a hill overlooking a small valley. The headquarters lay nested within, a roughly oval structure with a massive perimeter fence all around. The fence was definitely electrified, as the huge signs posted all over the place showed.

"Why do they even bother putting up signs anyway? It's not like the place is open to public knowledge. And I'm sure even the dumbest employee in there should know better than to touch anything." Seth mumbled.

"Standard procedure I guess."

"A nation of excess." Seth continued to observe the place. Floodlights were positioned all over the place on the watchtowers. The place reminded him more of a futuristic maximum security prison than the headquarters of any agency. The structure was tiered differently in different areas, the highest point being the center, where it rose to around seven stories. "Pretty big."

"You haven't seen the underground facilities yet."

"Bigger?"

Race nodded in the dark. "Immense simulation facilities. Used for training and conditioning."

"And other 'strenuous' activities."

"Jade, trust me when I say I don't wanna know."

"So, how do we get in?" Seth still couldn't find a weak point in the security. "Cut the power?"

"No use there. The auxiliary generator would start up almost immediately, and within five seconds, the entire place will be fully operational again. Plus, they would be looking for us then."

"Okay, so power cut ain't a good thing. What then?"

"We do it old skool." Jade began slinking down the terrain, headed for the fence.

"Okay, but don't we risk being seen that way?" Seth flattened himself further as a beam of bright light swung above.

"Kid, you gotta live for risks." Race chuckled before following Jade, slinking as close as possible to the ground.

"I swear I'll be shaved to death by the time we make it," Seth grumbled, spitting out a chunk of gravel that had entered his mouth.

Ahead, both Race and Jade had paused, their still figures blending in with the shadows.

"We go under now."

"Under?"

"Just follow…"

Seth nodded and followed the two as they began working their way towards an outcrop. Once, his foot slipped and his leg splashed into a shallow pond. "Sorry," he mumbled, avoiding the glares thrown his way. They waded through the pond, as silently as the lapping water would allow. Race pushed aside some shrubbery that had grown around the far side of the pond.   
In the gloom of the shadows, Seth saw him pull himself up onto the bank. Race helped Jade up and began to work on loosening the grill. Peering into the darkness, he realized that it was an oversized pipe that protruded slightly from the hillside. Wading the rest of the way, he hauled himself out of the fetid water easily enough.

"This really stinks." He got up and began to yank on the grill while Race continued to loosen it.

"Thing's jammed up pretty tight this time," Race said through gritted teeth.

"Didn't we pack any gadgets to help?" Seth dug in his backpack.

"Yeah, but I would prefer not to use the laser. Risks giving us away."

Seth nodded. He continued to yank on the grill, using a crowbar to help pry it. Giving up after five minutes, he set down the bar. The grill seemed to glow an angry red. Race hopped back, watching the boy as he continued doing whatever it was he was doing. The red glow subsided, and a chill seemed to envelop them as the grill froze, frost covering it.

Seth snapped a hard kick at the grill, and the grating shattered. In the still night, the noise was relatively loud, but Race knew that they were far away enough to risk it. Even so, it did not stop him from having a word with Seth.

"Hey, at least that's out of the way," Seth said obstinately. "And by the way, we don't have much time. The sooner we get him out, the sooner we can work on stopping an apocalypse."

"You lied about your powers." Race grabbed the boy by the shoulders and forced him to face him.

"I'm not proud of them," Seth bit back. He ducked into the pipe, making his way silently through the narrow passage, his torch providing the necessary light. The pipe had widened to the point of being size of a sewer tunnel. The concrete walls were damp and slick looking.

Race shook his head and motioned for Jade to follow. He followed suite.

"You have to admit, the kid's good."

"Impulsive more like. He's gonna get himself hurt, or worse at the rate he's going."

"That's never held you back before." Her whisper was teasing.

"I'm a highly trained…"

"Yes, I'm sure you are, but has it ever occurred to you that the boy might be very good at what he's trained to do as well?"

"Why do you trust him so much?"

"Why don't you?"

"I dunno. Maybe it's because he just showed up one day, sent from I-1."

"But that's the way we always show up. The element of surprise remember."

Race shook his head in the dark. "Let's focus for now." Seth's light was very much farther ahead. "Seth, slow down."

"Where's this pipe lead to anyway?" Seth had paused at a bend. His light was scanning the interior of the pipe, taking in the scum that caked most of the inner wall.

"I mean there's this goop all over the place, and honestly, it smells like shit!" He lifted his right foot gingerly. "If that's what we're walking in right now, don't tell me until we're done."

"It isn't. The water comes from the cooling tanks."

"And how often do they empty the tanks?"

"Noon and midnight."

"Bad news then people. The water's due this way in about two minutes."

"Crap! I totally forgot about the water." Race checked his watch.

"How much farther?"

"Give or taken another two hundred feet or so to the junction."

"Head back then I guess."

"Easier to go forward. Cling to the ceiling when you hear the water." Looking up, Race pointed to a bar. Race dug in his backpack and found a pair of gloves. Slipping them on, he motioned for the others to do the same.

The rush of water was deafening as it thundered towards them. All three leapt for the ceiling, grabbing hold of the bar. Tucking their legs neatly above, they watched as the flood of boiling hot water rushed by, steam from the water blurring their vision. The roiling water continued to steam by for several minutes.

"Just how big are your generators anyway?" Seth yelled over the crashing waters.

"Huge!" Race yelled back.

"No kiddin'!"

"Water's subsiding," Jade noted. The torrent had subsided to a mere stream. Finally, the water trickled to stop.

The three of them dropped down, splashing tepid water. Without a word, they continued moving deeper in.

I-1 HEADQUARTERS

Jonny walked into the showers, not before flashing the bird at the camera that was positioned at the door of the showers. To ensure some degree of privacy, as if aiming the camera at the door was much better than sticking it right into the stalls.

The steam rose around him, forming gaseous dragons that disintegrated as they condensed on the cool plexiglass door of the stall. The water stung his back, running down his sore muscles.

Suddenly, over the rush of water, he heard a sharp hiss, and suddenly the room was thrown into darkness. A second later, a dull blue light came on, the emergency lights. He waited for the blaring sirens that indicated a security breach, but none came. Apparently it was just a minor affair of a short circuit.

Shutting off the water, he wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out into the open.

And came face to face with Seth.

"What the…!" he exclaimed, stepping back violently. "How the hell did you get in here?"

"I'm not just a healer," was the only reply he got. "Get dressed!" He turned around, facing the mirror. _Pity it's steamed up… can't see a thing!_

Jonny threw on a clean tank top and slipped on the standard issue drawstring pants he'd been given.

"Follow me," Seth yanked his arm, getting him to follow.

"Where's Race?"

"Outside with Jade."

"Jade's here too?" _This is really strange._

"Yeah. Now will you just shut up and just follow me?" Seth glared at Jonny.

Jonny shrugged, allowing Seth to lead the way, navigating through the various corridors of the facility. Suddenly, the Chinese boy stopped and whistled sharply. Jonny saw the grating of the air vent above them move and a length of rope was dropped through the narrow opening. "Took you long enough."

"Get up fast!" Race hissed. The two boys complied and shimmied up the rope in quick succession.

"How'd you guys get in?" Jonny asked, crawling after the rest as they took Race's lead, occasionally ducking lower as they crossed cables that dangled low.

"Drainage tunnel. Nearly got steamed too, kiddo!" Race said, not pausing. "We're here." Yanking open the grating, he popped his head below for a second before withdrawing it and dropping neatly through the opening. Jade followed, and then Seth, with Jonny taking up the tail.

"You weren't kidding when you said you knew this place like the back of your hands, huh?" Jonny whispered, following the silent procession through the dimly lit corridors. There were so many bends that following a single corridor felt like taking a ride of a merry-go-round,

"No, we weren't," Jade answered. They left the main corridor they were on and cut into another.

"Freeze!" a loud yell stopped all of them.

Jonny turned around to see an operative with a gun in his hand, the weapon aimed and cocked. Jonny vaguely remembered him. Jerry or something.

"You don't want to do that, Jerry." He spoke in a quiet voice, his voice only slightly menacing.

"Oh really? Try me." Jerry shifted his feet, placing them slightly farther apart.

"Yeah. You wanna let us go nice and easy, and walk away from this." Jonny advanced slowly.

"Jonny…" Race cautioned, but ceased when he saw Jonny motioning subtly for him to shut up.

"No Big Guy. I don't. You see this," he jerked his gun twice. "This means that I have control over this situation."

"Look Jerry, this could go down two ways. One, you let us go and forget about it. Two, I smack you down like a bitch, and we still go. Either way, we're going!" He was now within striking distance, and Jerry knew it as he backed away slowly.

"Not gonna happen, smart ass!" Jonny matched his retreat with his advances.

"Fine!" Whipping an arm out, he grabbed Jerry's arm, and wrenched it sharply. The gun went off several times, emptying itself. Jonny snapped an elbow to the man's temple and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious, but relatively unhurt.

"Everyone okay?" he asked, turning around.

"Yeah," was the general reply, with some silent curses from Race thrown in.

"Let's move boys. Those gunshots weren't exactly careless whispers!" Jade urged them on, pushing ahead of the rest. "We still got some area to cover before we're out."

"You know that I-1's gonna hound our asses, Race," Seth pointed out, hustling.

"Yeah. But one apocalypse at a time, okay."

Seth turned to see Jonny lagging slightly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. A little winded from that last encounter. Just move on, I'll be right behind."

Suddenly, the alarm went off, and flashing red lights went off everywhere.

"Crap. Okay, move it people. We're gonna be running a rat race from here on!" Race quickened his pace, urging the rest to keep up. They fled down multiple corridors. All the time, the sound of thundering feet was clearly audible as the entire base was put on red alert. He turned into another corridor and entered a vast chamber. Military vehicles were parked neatly, categorized by type of terrain. The others followed, and stopped.

"Race's over," Race said, backing away slowly. Turning around, he saw that they were fenced in from all sides by armed troops.

"End of the line, Bannon. Should have known it would've been you. Only you would be stupid enough to try something like this." Corvin snickered, loving every moment of this.

"Aww, come on, Corvin. Surely I deserve some credit too," Jade said, pouting.

"Haven't forgotten you, Jade. But you will soon wish that I did."

"You can't do anything to the kid, Corvin." Race bit, instinctively shielding Jonny with his own broader body.

"I hold the power here, Bannon. I can do whatever I please," Corvin said lazily, taking a deep puff of his foul cigar.

"No, you don't!" The bold statement caught everyone off guard, as Jonny stepped forward. "You have no power over me at all."

"Wanna bet kid? Care to wager your life?"

"Oh, yes I do. But are you willing to wager your own, Agent Corvin?" Jonny asked, taking another step forward. "You see, you exist solely to serve ME! Sure you have all the know-how, and books… and even the manpower, but all that translates to nothing without your chief soldier.

"That would be me. I have no idea why I didn't see this before… but you are nothing if I don't cooperate. Or if I don't exist Kill me and lose your war before you even get out there. Try 'extracting' any 'bodily' fluids and you will lose enough men to justify my death.

"The problem with your little jihad is that without me… you lose. So you know what, Corvin, you don't have shit! I hold you by the balls and I own every single one of your goddamned jobs. Kill any of my friends or family, and I refuse to cooperate. Kill me, and well, you go kill the big bad with an empty gun!" Jonny smirked. "Drop your weapons, boys!"

The echoing impact of over a hundred weapons being dropped onto the concrete floor was a stirring moment for Race. He had never felt prouder of his charge. "Told you he could think."

"Gentlemen, we're leaving now. If I were you, I would arm myself for the coming apocalypse. Be ready to fight… be ready to die." With that, Jonny marched towards a military jeep. Hopping in behind the wheel, he twisted the key already in the ignition, and the motor jolted to life. Race hopped in next to him and Jade and Seth took the back seats. "I'll be seeing you, Agent Corvin. Wait for my call." He waved insolently at the older man and guided the jeep pass him.

"Guide me out of here," Jonny whispered to Race.

Race nodded and promptly whispered the directions to the nearest exit. They got out without any hassle at all.

To be continued…


	16. Chapter 16: Empty

Date : 6th July 2004

Disclaimer : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category : A, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating : Parental guidance is advised. Some profanity in this chapter.

Author's note : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

**EMPTY**

The Dragonfly II took off silently, a deep black shadow against the night sky. Race switched off the stealth mode; they wouldn't need it anymore. They were headed home. Jade sat next to him, acting as co-pilot. Together, they kept each other's silent company.

In the passenger compartment, Seth couldn't help but notice that Jonny was considerably paler than he had ever remembered. He was also very quiet.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked, peering through his heavy dark lashes. He had changed out of his wet and muddy gear, and cleaned himself up as much as he possibly could in the small bathroom.

Jonny got up and headed for the kitchen. "Yeah… just feeling a little…" He collapsed.

In a flash, Seth was next to him, checking his vital signs. As his fingers felt for a pulse, he suddenly realized than a section of the tank top was shiny, glistening wet. Touching it gingerly, he saw his fingers bloodstained when he removed them.

"Damn you, Quest!" he muttered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We didn't have time then. Had to get out…" Jonny managed weakly.

"And when were you going to tell me?" Seth demanded, settling into a more comfortable position.

Jonny shrugged weakly. "I guessed I would be okay," he said sheepishly.

Seth's hands glowed purple as he passed them over the wound, concentrating on healing the grievous injury. He noticed with pained satisfaction that the bullet was being pushed out of the wound as the internal tissues began their accelerated repair. The bullet fell to the ground with a metallic clink, and Seth fell back, panting, His eyes were glazed and his breathing ragged. He curled himself into a fetal position, his expression one of great pain.

Jonny moved over to his healer. "Seth, what's wrong?" Then he noticed the growing blood stain on Seth's white shirt. Ripping the shirt open, he saw a serious wound, almost identical to his a few minutes ago.

"Oh God… what the hell?" Jonny wadded up Seth's shirt and pressed it firmly on the wound. "Just hold on, I'll get Race!"

"No… just wait… and see." With trembling hands, he pushed away the wadded shirt to expose the wound. Jonny watched as the wound began to heal miraculously, the dead and injured tissues regenerating at an unnatural rate. And then, there was no more wound.

"I accelerate your healing by transferring my own tissues and whatever else," Seth explained briskly. "In order to deal with it, my own body regenerates just as quickly as I can heal you… so that I can continue my duty."

"Why'd you do it? You could've died?" Jonny exclaimed, his anger flaring now.

"I knew I wouldn't!"

"Bullshit!"

Seth looked away. "My powers are to be put to use, regardless of the risks to myself."

"Seth, look at me."

"No. I know what you're going to say, and it's not going to change a thing…"

"I'm not going to say that… you're too bloody stubborn to listen anyway," Jonny said softly. Seth looked his way, surprised by the tenderness in place of the usual cocky swagger.

"But I am going to say two things. First: Thank you. For everything, you know." He paused and looked straight at Seth. "And secondly…" Jonny moved in, closing the small gap between them. His lips sought Seth's, pressing tenderly. "Thank you, again," he whispered.

JQJQJQ

MAINE

"What time is it, Hadji?" Benton paced the library floor. Hadji mumbled a reply, and continued to peruse through the journal he had been reading for the past two hours. His eyes ached from the strain, but he persevered. It was all he could do for now.

"They'll be back, Father. Race'll get him back."

"Wrong, Hadj!" A familiar voice said, as IRIS announced their return. "It was I who kicked Corvin's ass!"

"Son!" Benton shot out of the library, colliding violently with his son. He grabbed his son by the shoulders, and then hugged him firmly. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, in between sobs.

"Pops… all's good." Jonny managed to disengage himself from his father's firm grasp. "If anything, this trip has been a somewhat enlightening experience." He turned around to face Hadji. "How's it going, bro?"

Hadji returned his brother's smirk. "Been trying to find a way to get you out of another mess."

"Aww… apocalypse got everyone down huh?"

"You better believe it, kid," Jade said, stretching her lithe body.

"I believe we have yet to work out a deal on your part of this, Jade," Benton said, smiling.

Jade shrugged. "Call it a favor returned, Benton. No charge," she said. "Now, if you boys will excuse me, I need to take a long hot shower."

"I need one too," Seth added, his presence unrecognized till now. He made his way upstairs, presumably to the showers.

"Hadj, show me what we've got on this apocalypse so far," Jonny said, headed for the library. Hadji followed briskly, mentally cataloguing the information he had acquired so far.

"So, how did the plan work out?" Benton asked Race, turning his eyes away from Seth.

"The plan was okay for the most part. Jonny saved the end, but honestly, I'm not sure if the plan would have worked as well as it did had it not been for Seth."

"He comes in handy, doesn't he?" Benton sounded troubled.

"What's eating you, Ben? Jon's back isn't he?"

"It's not Jonny… it's Seth… something just doesn't seem right with that kid."

"Look, Benton, I know I had my doubts about him before… but I'm willing to give him a chance now."

"But…"

"He's earned it."

"That's what I'm worried about."

* * *

"So this is going to go down in Sunnydale?" Jonny flipped the pages idly.

"Yes. But there's a Slayer down there, isn't there?" Hadji sat down on the table, settling next to his brother.

"Yeah…"

"Then, there's no need for you to…"

"Hadj…" Jonny warned.

"You don't need to go then!" Hadji protested.

"This is gonna be big, Hadj. And you know how big it can probably get. It's bigger than her."

"But…"

"No buts on this one, Hadj. You're the one who always believed in stepping up to the challenge, and doing the right thing. This is the right thing."

"You know that I'll have to watch your back then," Hadji said.

"I'll have it no other way."

They shared a moment of silence before Jonny left.

JQJQJQ

SUNNYDALE

"Any idea when this whole thing is going to drop?" Buffy asked, looking expectantly at Giles.

"Soon."

"Soon is not good enough, Giles! I need to know what I'm facing and when if we're gonna come out of this alive."

Giles sighed. "Do you know when the winter solstice is?"

Buffy wrinkled her brow. "Winter wha-ha?"

"The winter solstice. The longest night of the year."

Buffy grunted. "Figures… vamps and all."

"This gets a whole lot bigger than just simply vampires, Buffy. Should the prophecy come into play, we're talking a whole host of demons. Some of unimaginable proportions." Giles tapped his glasses on the table.

"Got it covered. We'll just break out the weapons and…"

"Buffy…"

"God, Giles… I know this is bad. I've been through enough to recognize bad when it stands before me. But despair isn't going to help… and right now, morale's all we got hanging on our side." Silence ensued.

"What do you propose we do then?"

"We take it a day at a time. If this is as bad as it seems, chances are we won't live to see the next day." Buffy paused to look at her Watcher. "Maybe it'll just blow away like a storm, but if it rains on us, then we go out and face the wet."

"We'll weather this storm." Giles offered no more, and continued with his work. "How's Angel?"

"He's okay. Still a little shaken, but I guess Hell does that to you."

* * *

"Tense isn't it?" Xander motioned with a quick jerk of his head. Willow looked up and at the direction he had gestured at. Buffy and Giles seemed to be in some deep conversation.

"Probably nothing." She could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

"This is going to be big, Will… and you know it."

"We don't know anything guys. Not yet. So maybe we should try to remedy that by doing some more research." Oz interjected. Willow looked gratefully at him. He was her rock, her steadiness.

"We'll know when it's time, Xand. Don't worry."

Xander feigned shock. "Me? Worry? You gotta be kiddin' me, Will. Big ghoulies don't surprise me. They just make me wanna crawl under a big security blankie and suck my thumb!"

"We'll make it."

"How can you be so sure?"

"It's all I have. The belief that the next day can only get better." Willow turned her attentions back to the books on the table.

Silence ensued, and the flicking of pages was the only audible sound in the whole library.

JQJQJQ

MAINE

"Don't go." Seth sat up on his bed, pulling his legs to his chest. The night poured in through the uncovered windows. In the darkness, his skin appeared the color of ebony, a light sheen on the surface. His hair was tousled, mussed slightly from the pillow.

"Don't start too." Jonny didn't move, but Seth felt his gaze shift onto him.

"Fine. But why do you have to go?"

"It's my duty."

"Now you play the dutiful soldier!" Seth snapped. He shifted quickly as he felt Jonny reaching for him. Slipping off the bed, he walked over to the windows and peered out into the darkness. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Coz I was the one always bugging you to take hold of your destiny, and now that you're going to, I don't want to let you."

"Yeah well, thanks for caring then." Jonny moved into a sitting position to get a better view of the naked shadow. "Now, will you come back here?"

"It's my bed, I'll come whenever I please," Seth said tersely.

Jonny got up and in a few steps stood next to Seth. "What's so interesting out there?"

Seth shrugged. "Nothing I guess. Just the darkness."

"So come back to bed." Jonny wrapped his arms around Seth's narrow waist and hoisted him back to the bed where he laid him down. In the darkness, he glimpsed the shining darkness of Seth's eyes.

"Your eyes droop a little," he noted, smiling lazily.

"So?"  
"They give you that cute puppy dog look."

Seth laughed softly. He squirmed a little as he felt Jonny's fingers dance across his navel. "Your hands are cold!"

"Warm them up for me then." Jonny sighed softly as he felt Seth's soft kisses on his fingers. He remained silent for a long time.

"What?" Seth suddenly asked, stopping.

"I've never felt like this before. I mean, I have… but it was different. Jessie was a… and you're well…"

"Jessie was a girl, yes. A very hot one too… you've nothing to be embarrassed there. I'm well, a more controversial choice," Seth caught Jonny's gaze. "Look, we don't have to go on if you don't want to. I know this is complicated, and confusing, and probably wrong, but…"

"I don't want to stop. Not now. And it feels right, Seth. That's what's wrong. It feels so right!"

"Then it is."

Jonny leaned in and kissed his lover tenderly. "You're right." He lay down and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Jonny awoke. The room was still washed in darkness, and next to him, Seth lay, asleep. Breathing slowly and evenly. Jonny took a moment to study how each eyelash gently caressed his cheeks. Silently, he slipped out of bed, pulled on his shorts and slipped on his tank top. He made his exit as silently as possible, careful not to wake anyone.

He entered his own room, closing the door quietly.

Hadji stepped out of the bathroom, and entered his own room.

* * *

"Which of these weapons are you best versed in?" Race asked, opening the vast cabinet of weapons, both medieval and fairly modern.

Jonny scanned the racks and hooks, taking in each polished surface that glinted grimly. Any weapon for any form of damage was neatly placed; either hanging or neatly laid out on the polished darkwood shelves.

"I've got my sword, Race."

"I know, but you can't solely rely on that. A Destined One has to be well-versed in as many weapons as possible." Race picked up a pair of kali sticks. "Know these?"

Jonny nodded. "Kali sticks… Filipino origin."

"Can you use them?"

Jonny shrugged. "Wouldn't something with sharp surfaces be a better bet?"

"What if you are out of sharp weaponry?"

"Hand-to-hand?"

"Why are you being so difficult?" Race demanded, slamming the cabinet doors.

"Because since we got back, I've had a total of seven hours of sleep in the past five days. I've been patrolling with you to insane hours, gone to school, come back for more grueling shit.

"Yes, Race, I know how to use kali sticks. Yes, I'm pretty handy with the mace, even more so with the crossbow. I'm an expert with the bladed staffs, and a pretty good aim with the shurikens!

"On top of that, I'm fluent in three styles of kung fu: Crane, mantis and tiger, taekwondo, a black belt in karate, and a junior instructor in muay tai!" Jonny glowered at Race.

"Fine, show me! Then, you can rest!"

"Fine." Jonny strode over to the mat, shrugging off his backpack, and pulling his t-shirt off. "Start the simulation."

"It won't be as easy as it used to be." Race keyed in the specifications for the simulation.

"Such as?"

"Such as every injury sustained will hurt, you will feel it and you'll probably weaken from them."

"Hyper-reality?"

Race nodded.

"Okay." Jonny secured the headpiece, and flashed Race a thumbs-up. "Ready whenever you are."

* * *

Darkness. Oblivion.

"Erm, Race. I can't see a thing. Check IRIS to see if you got the code right."

"I did. That's the point of this exercise."

"I can't see a damn thing!"

"You're catching on, Jonny."

"How can I fight without being able to see my opponent?"

"Use your other senses."

"You want me to taste them?" He grunted in response when a heavy blow struck him on the side of his head. "Race!"

"Concentrate. Sense them, you know you can."

"I can feel the pain!" Jonny yelled, blocking a blow too late. He keeled over and fell to his knees. A hard kick sent him reeling backwards, slamming hard into some hard surface. He balanced himself with his hands, breathing heavily. Adrenaline surged through him, his muscles were so tense that he was ready to snap, his ears ringing. _Don't panic… it's only a simulation._ He took another blow, this time to the back. He fell flat on his face, crashing hard on his chin. _But what if it wasn't?_

_Focus, hear their movements, feel the energy. _Jonny picked himself up. He felt a brief rush of air to his right and swung an arm to parry the blow, lashing out with a kick. His assailant tumbled away, moaning.

"Better," Race commented. "Keep it up!"

Ducking a high blow, Jonny returned a spinning back thrust, which he followed with a jumping snap kick. Reaching for the stake he always kept at his belt, he rammed it through what he hoped would be the chest. Nothing happened, but the snarl he heard in response was blood-curdling.

"No one ever said they were vampires, Jonny." Race was watching the scene unfold on his monitor.

"No one said they weren't." Jonny bit back. He jabbed a hard punch, and yanked out his stake. "I need another weapon."

Race keyed in a code, and watched as a pair of kali sticks materialized in Jonny's hands on the monitor.

"Kali sticks?" Jonny couldn't hide his disgust. "You're really trying to drive home a point here, aren't ya?"

"Just use the damn sticks. It's either that or nothing at all." He watched in satisfaction as the slightly battered image began to put the sticks to good effect, bashing the wireframe opponents silly with the sticks. He had not bothered to specify a demon for the battle, instead using the wireframe models as something of a hybrid creation, pulling out various abilities from the mainframe and infusing the models with them.

Keying in a few more codes, he watched as the wireframe figures morphed, bigger this time, with huge claws and fangs.

Jonny must have sensed the change too, as he immediately backed off a little, but his attacks were unrelenting. Race watched as a demon took a swipe at the blond teenager with a heavily clawed paw, sending the boy ten feet back.

"Crap!" Jonny cursed, searching blindly for his weapons. "Race, I can't find the bloody things!"

"What would you prefer this time?"

"A bladed staff would work."

Jonny felt the comfortable weight of the staff in his hands as it materialized. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, wondering if it was just sweat, or was he bleeding too. He breathed slowly, locating his enemy. Sensing the change in the air current, he rolled to the side, swinging the staff in a wide arc as he got up. He felt it catch onto something, and rip free.

The howl confirmed a hit, as did the loud grunt when he bashed it with the blunt end of the staff. Risking getting too close, Jonny rammed the staff through his enemy, and ripped upwards, disemboweling the creature. Whipping it around, he carved the other one across the torso.

"IRIS, end simulation!" Race commanded.

Jonny slipped off his headpiece, breathing heavily. His hands were empty, the staff that had been there a moment ago was gone. He was bathed in sweat, and claw marks marked his arms and chest. "Grueling," he muttered.

"Well done." Race smiled. "You're about as ready as I can prepare you."

"Now, can I rest?" Jonny slumped, feeling the tension drain from his muscles.

Race nodded.

"We'll continue this tomorrow. That was AWESOME!" Jonny bounded off.

Race smiled. _You're still learning…_

JQJQJQ

DECEMBER 20TH 2002

MAINE

"Yes, Mother. I will be there soon. Yes…" Hadji paced his room, avoiding the cardboard boxes that cluttered the floor. After several more minutes, he snapped his cell phone shut.

"Where ya going?" Jonny asked, stepping into the mess.

"Bangalore."

"When?" Jonny demanded, looking around. The sight of filled boxes upset him more than he could imagine.

"Soon."

"Why?"

"I'm the sovereign ruler of my kingdom, Jonny. As much as I've tried running away from that, I can't. It's my birthright. You've taught me that much, my brother. To accept what's ours with as much grace as we can manage."

"This isn't about birthrights, Hadj! This is about you leaving!"

"I'm leaving to take my rightful place. To lead my people…"

"You're leaving US!"

"I'm not abandoning you, if that's what you're implying."

"I'm not implying anything, Hadj. Look around you… everything's packed. When was I going to find out? After you'd left? What was I going to get? A card?"

"Jonny!"

Jonny remained silent. He glared sullenly at his brother.

"I came back from completing my degree during your absence. I stayed on till I knew things had stabilized. Till you knew your place, and accepted your duties." Hadji paused. "In turn, I also learnt that my burden was not much lighter. I learnt that a lot of people depended on me to make the right decisions, just as the rest of the world depends on you to make the right choices.

"I will finish off as soon as possible, and then I must return to Bangalore. Father knows about it. So does Race."

"When are you leaving?" Jonny's tone was clipped, but Hadji saw that the anger had ebbed away, and a wave of fear was left in its wake.

"After the apocalypse. That way, if we lose, it won't matter. If we win, then at least I'll have a future to lead."

"You'll still watch my back?"

"Always. Always, my brother, always!" Hadji embraced his brother. His voice was choked up. "Always."

* * *

Seth looked up from his trig assignment when he heard a knock a his door. "Who is it?"

"Hadji."

"Come in. It's not locked." He spun his chair around. "What's up?"

Hadji stood in the doorway for a moment, surveying the room before stepping in. He closed the door behind him. He remained silent.

"Come on, Hadji. What's wrong? You're freaking me out, man!" Seth stood up, eyeing his visitor.

"I know, Seth."

"What do you know?" Seth asked, puzzled by the suddenly cryptic Hadji. He wasn't being mysterious anymore. In fact, Hadji scared him now.

"I know about you. And Jonny."

"And?" Seth's voice was edged with ice now.

"And I know what you're doing."

"And what's that?"

"I've seen you, Seth. I've seen into you. I know what's inside… what you're capable of." Hadji held Seth's eyes with his powerful gaze. "I know what it is that you want."

"Tell me then…"

"You're empty, Seth. You need him to fill you up, but you'll never be anything but empty. A vessel, nothing more."

"And you care so much, why? Aren't you the one who's leaving us? Leaving him?"

"I'm not leaving him. He knows that!"

"But not as well as you know me." Seth smirked, his tone malicious now.

"I won't let you hurt him!"

"I love him!"

"You have no idea what that word means!"

"And you do? Just because you're not 'empty'?" Seth moved closer. "Do you? Does it mean that you will give your life for him? Does it mean that you wish you could lay him down to sleep, to rest his weary limbs? To cradle his head, to whisper stories into his ear as he lies there, not moving? To be there, just for the sake of being there?" Seth turned away, and moved to his window. "Because I do!" He watched as the fat flakes of snow drifted from the white sky, settling onto everything.

"Exactly." Hadji stepped up next to him. "That's why I trust you."

"Huh?"

"I trust you. I entrust him into your hands when I'm gone."

"But…"

"He will need someone, Seth. It may not always be you, but he will need someone. Even for a little while…"

The both of them stared out the window, watching as flakes of snow cascaded onto the winter landscape.

"He leaves tonight."

"I know."

"What do we do here?"

"We hold the fort for him."

To be continued…


	17. Chapter 17: The Calm Before

Date : 30th December 2004

Disclaimer : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category : A, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating : Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

**THE CALM BEFORE…**

The LAX teemed with people, kids running about getting lost in the crowd, their frantic parents screaming for them to stop. Baggage carts littered the place, as huge suitcases wheeled freely away from their distracted owners. It was a mosh of generations; the young, the adults, and the elderly. Throw in an occasional four-legged fiend in a cage and the whole airport seemed like a monster petting zoo.

Jonny ignored the raucous around him as best he could. The trip over had been agonizing to say the least. He now wished he had taken Race up on his offer to fly him down with the Dragonfly. Instead, he had spent seemingly uncountable hours under unimaginably torturous conditions.

"Kids!" he muttered to himself, narrowly avoiding a knee-to-head on collision with a screaming tyke. As if it wasn't enough that he was here on business alone, everyone around him seemed to be screaming "Merry Christmas" as if it was some bizarre contest of some sort to outshout all others.

The air outside the stuffy airport was crisp; nothing compared to the Maine winter he had left behind, but it was chilly enough to warrant a jacket.

He caught a bus headed south, and settled in as comfortably as he could. The dark landscape seemed to rush by him; trees dark in the shadow, and occasional lamp-post. Street signs whizzed by, and he was left wondering how much farther there was to go before he reached his destination.

A few hours later and a few stops after, the bus passed a sign.

"Welcome to Sunnydale!"

* * *

"1630 Revello Drive. Yep, guess this is it." He stood in front of a smallish house, in a quiet neighborhood. "Cozy." 

IRIS had searched for the address he needed, cross-referencing all the Summers in southern California till it was narrowed down to 3 residences. Jonny had tried the first two without luck, one in an upper-class neighborhood, and the other at the other end of town.

He checked his watch and sighed. Under normal circumstances, it was definitely too weird to simply just ring the doorbell and hope that IRIS had not failed him this time. Then again, this wasn't a visit under normal circumstances.

He reached out to ring the bell, and retracted his hand. _How the heck do I go about this? What if she isn't home? What…? _Then he saw her strolling back home, hands in her pocket. A tall man was following a little way back. A very pale guy.

"Buffy, behind you!" he yelled, before launching himself at the guy. They crashed into a tree, and rolled onto the ground.

Jonny took a hard hit to his chin and let go of the man. Then they were both at it again, smacking each other down… before they were rudely interrupted by a furious looking Slayer.

"What the hell is going on?" she hissed, separating the two men.

"He's a vampire!" Jonny rasped, catching his breath.

"Uh-huh. I was fully aware of that before you launched yourself at him!" Buffy snapped.

"But…"

She sighed. "Jonny Quest, meet Angel. No last name."

Jonny cocked his head. "Angel? _The _dead Angelus?"

"Angel!" Angel corrected tersely. "And who's the bozo?"

"A Slayer."

Angel broke down in laughter. "And I thought only girls were Slayers…" He snickered at Jonny's annoyance. "No offense, of course…" But his smirk meant otherwise.

"None taken," Jonny sniped back.

"And also not dead." Angel reminded, brushing off his leather duster.

"I can see that. What I can't see is how… I mean she ran you through and sent you literally to hell."

"Hey, boys!" They paused and looked at Buffy. "Standing right here, so speak to me, not speak of me in the third person!"

"Fine. But explain."

"I can't. He just reappeared one day, all deranged and…"

"Hey!" Angel protested.

"Fine. He showed up one day, 'disoriented' and 'confused'."

"Which accounts for why I'm standing here… but why are _you_ here? And how do you know each other?"

"We were partners a while back." Jonny said no more, to Buffy's relief.

"And you're a Slayer too?"

"More specifically the Destined One. Catchy title, very comic book worthy."

"And…"

"Erm, hello, my turf. I'll ask the questions," Buffy interjected, moving in between them. "Why are you here, Jonny?"

"Last time I checked, you had an apocalypse headed this way."

"And you're here to help?"

Jonny shrugged. "Why not?"

"Do you know something I don't?"

"As in how this will come about? Yeah, that much I do I guess."

"How?"

"Prumiva."

"That bitch! I so wanna stake her skanky ass!"

"You'll get your chance soon enough, if we live through this long enough to get to her." Jonny adjusted the strap of his duffel bag. "So, how've you been?"

Buffy shrugged in response. "Been dealing. You?"

"Same."

"Where you shacking up anyway? Till this is over, that is?"

"Dunno. Didn't cover that part of the equation."

"You could stay over…" she began. Angel cleared his throat loudly in protest.

"I can find a decent hotel room till then…"

"The Four Seasons is full!" Buffy deadpanned. "It's here or the streets."

"Or my place," Angel interrupted. "Big spacious bachelor pad,"

"Sure, if you don't mind."

"I'll mind it less then you staying here."

"Honest aren't ya?"

"Brutally so."

"Well, I'll be waiting here. You two do whatever it was I interrupted." Jonny leaned against the tree, scanning the street.

Angel rolled his eyes. "I don't like him," he whispered as he leaned in to kiss her goodnight.

"Then why the hell did you offer to put him up?" Buffy asked, a smile creeping onto her face.

"Well, I've got a lot of space… and at least I can keep an eye on him… and…"

"You're jealous!" she snickered. Angel glared in response.

"No, I'm not… unless I have reason to be."

Buffy leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "That answer your question?"

"It'll do."

* * *

"So, this is home, huh?" Jonny wandered around the hall, scrutinizing the area. He was impressed. The mansion was of a respectable size, but the main hall was immense. Close to the size of the Quest Mansion. _Well, at least we still have the Compound._

Angel barely nodded. "Curtains remain drawn, blood's in the fridge. No shoes on the furniture."

Jonny nodded in response. "No prob."

"You can sleep on the couch if you want to."

Another nod.

Angel turned and headed into the darker shadows of the mansion.

"Hey, Big Guy!"

He turned around.

"I'll be out of your hair as soon as I'm done here," Jonny said.

Angel didn't respond, but turned around. "I'll be at the back if you need me."

* * *

Jonny lay on the couch, staring at the high ceiling. He had rolled up his jacket and used it as a pillow while he mulled over his thoughts. The mansion was chilly, but he wasn't sure how Angel felt about fires, being a vampire and all. For now, the fireplace was cold and dark, with no welcome flame to warm up the place. 

Dawn would be in less than a couple of hours. He wondered if Angel had a training room. All this waiting about was driving him crazy; he needed some activity to keep his mind off the coming apocalypse.

Maybe he could meet Buffy's Watcher. Or even the rest of her Scoobies as she called them.

Flipping off the couch, he grabbed his jacket and made for the front door as quietly as possible. The door closed with a soft creak. Jonny kicked some fallen leaves out of his way, sending the stiff parodies of spring aside.

The air was cool and fresh. Looking up, the sky was clear; a few wispy bits of cloud trailing along. He drew a deep breath and stuck his hands into his pockets. It was a long walk to Buffy's home, but it was a welcome distraction for now.

Looking around, he found it hard to see how this could possibly the Hellmouth. It was too much like Rockport; from the clustered suburbs to the way each morning seemed so clean, untainted. He felt a pang of guilt for leaving his own town in the time of an impending apocalypse, but chances were, Sunnydale would be hit hard.

He had checked in with the rest when he had landed. Nothing had changed and they were hoping the storm would simply blow by. Somehow, deep down, Jonny doubted it. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and felt the harsh bristle of a two day stubble.

Two days… The last time he had spent time alone with Seth. The memory weighed painfully on his mind now. He had ended it. Ended their nights of passion, stolen kisses, and hungry touches. It was over… it had to be.

What made it harder was that Seth took it all calmly. Why the hell did the guy have to be so goddamn understanding sometimes? It wasn't as if he had wanted hysterics, but… It had been almost cold, numb. _Didn't he care at all? _

The lonely country road that ran on a ridge by the hillside soon gave way to wider streets, and an occasional car cruised pass him. When he finally arrived at Buffy's doorway, it was past eight, and the sun was shining brightly.

Again, the indecision of what to do next hit him. Finally reaching a decision, he reached out to ring the bell… And she opened it.

"Hey!" he said, looking in.

"Hi." There was a pregnant pause.

"I'm not a vampire or anything, but could I come in?" he asked, a small smile teasing the corners of his lips.

She stepped aside in response. He stepped in, and sniffed the warm aroma of homemade waffles.

"You want some? There are some extras," she offered, walking around him.

"Yeah, okay."

He followed her into the tidy kitchen, and leaned on the counter. She slipped him a plate of waffles and handed him a fork. "Syrup's on the side if you want any."

He poured a little syrup on the waffles and took a mouthful. She watched him silently, as he methodically chewed.

"Why did you come here? Really?"

Jonny watched her as she eyed him suspiciously. He swallowed and took a second. "It's not what you think… I'm not here because we…"

"Fine, then what is it? You can't have flown all the way here just to help beat an apocalypse!"

"Look, you left that morning… so why make me seem like the one who kept things unfinished?" he demanded, setting down the plate of half-eaten waffles.

"So, you're back because of that!"

"I didn't say so!"

"Yes, you did!"

"No, I was just jumping onto the 'push-the-blame' bandwagon!"

"Fine. So I ran out! This is my life back here. I'm trying to get it back in order!"

"Yeah, and I left mine to be here for this." He shifted his weight a little. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna say a word to Angel."

"About what?"

"About us, that night!"

"There wasn't an us! It was just you and me feeling very needy and…"

"Horny?"

"Well, yeah, I guess!"

"So it was just sex!"

"Yeah."

"Okay, so I won't say a word to Angel about our sexual encounter, if that's what you're afraid of! I'm not here to hunt you, Buffy. Life's been a little too complicated for that; so I'm not gonna get into that now. I'll be gone the moment all this crap blows by."

"Okay." There was a moment of silence, and Jonny picked up his plate again. The syrup had completely soaked through the waffles. He shoveled a forkful of soggy batter into his mouth.

"This is pretty good."

"Credit goes to my mom." She smiled. "It's been a while hasn't it?"

"Yeah… it has."

"So, what's up with you?"

"Slaying pretty much. Got kinda kidnapped a while back, but I got out of that. Turns out I had control over them anyway."

"Sounds intense."

"Probably was, but it's over now. How 'bout you?"

Buffy perched herself on the countertop next to him. "I came back… that's basically it." She rubbed her arms a little. "I came home, I guess that's a better term."

"And Angel?"

"He just reappeared. God knows how the hell he made it through the hell dimension to be back here, but he did. It's been… complicated I guess. But that's our lives… complicated I guess."

Jonny nodded.

"Apocalypse now… now that's a catchy title. They should make a movie."

"They did…"

"Really?"

"Yeah… military movie." Jonny set down his empty plate. "So, are we supposed to be training or something?"

Buffy looked at the clock on wall and sighed. "Yeah, I'm due to meet the rest in about half an hour. You wanna come?"

He shrugged. "Sure, why not. Gonna be fighting together anyway."

"Giles will be so thrilled!"

"About me?"

"Well, yeah, kinda. I mean, another Slayer line and all that… that's probably like huge for him!"

"Hope I don't disappoint."

* * *

"So, you're the other Slayer?" Giles eyed the boy disapprovingly. "Hmm…" 

Jonny was slouched against a pillar, idly taking in the details of the small library. He turned to meet the Watcher's gaze and smiled a lazy smile. "Yeah, that would be me."

"And you say that you also have the same qualities of _the _Slayer?"

"Giles, he can show you, if that's what you want!" Buffy exclaimed, hands on her hip. She gave her Watcher a disapproving glare.

"That won't be necessary, Buffy. I believe him. What I find hard to accept is that a second line of slayers exists." Giles wrinkled his brow. "But, now that it is brought up, I do remember reading some obscure references to a few 'gifted' individuals who were not of the Chosen line."

"That would be us… the forgotten ones." Jonny mussed, liking the British-ness of the man, but somewhat annoyed by his skepticism.

"So it would appear," Giles noted gravely.

Jonny clapped his hands together. "Okay, now that we're done with all that, where's the training room?"

"You're looking at it," Xander quipped, spreading his arms out.

"You're kidding, right?"

Xander tossed him a staff. "Nope!"

Willow smiled, and resumed her research. Oz squeezed her hand gently, and they shared a secret smile. "Xander doesn't really like new guys," Willow seemed to say, rolling her eyes a little. Oz followed suite, a soft smile on his face letting her know that he understood. He gave her another squeeze, and then resumed his reading.

* * *

"Will, ya know how I always said that Buffy gets pretty scary when she pounds the baddies?" Xander said, taking a seat next to her. 

Willow nodded.

"Let's just say I rather be facing her than this guy!" Xander pointed at the training session in progress.

"I told you not to watch… you weren't ready for such violence," Willow cooed, only half-mocking.

With a sharp push of the door, the rhythmic clicking of heels that marked the entrance of Cordelia Chase.  
"Speaking of things you weren't ready for," Willow mumbled.

"I have _no_ idea why I hang out so much with you losers, but…" Cordelia's voice died away when she caught sight of the new arrival.

"Ahh… Cordy, _my _dear sweet princess. Join us in these first-class seats!" Xander enthused, putting a lot of emphasis on his possessive terms.

Cordy did not look away. Catching her tongue finally, she said, "And who would you be?"

"Jonny Quest. And you?"

"Cordelia Chase, _my _girlfriend and integral part of the Scoobies!" Xander persisted, putting an arm around her slender waist and half-dragging her to the side. "Resident Armani clothes-horse."

Jonny nodded. "Pleasure. Are those Jimmy Choos?"

"Pleasure's all mine, I'm sure," Cordy mused. "And yes, they are." She giggled a little, before ceasing abruptly when she caught Xander's disapproving glare.

"What?" she demanded of him.

"You're flirting with him!" he hissed back.

"No, I'm not!" she protested indignantly.

"You just giggled!"

"Whatever. Is there anything for me to do?" She glanced at the overloaded desks and immediately regretted her question. Without another word, she took a seat and grabbed a book from the top, and immediately swapped it with something thinner, and considerably less dusty.

* * *

Jonny and Buffy squared off, smiles on their faces. 

"Now, keep minimum contact. This isn't a catfight to the death," Giles said, pushing his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Ready?" Buffy smirked.

"Bring it."

"Gladly." They sprang into battle, going through a complicated sequence of attacks, reversals, and counterattacks.

"Minimal contact!" Giles insisted, stepping aside to avoid being caught in the middle of the brawl.

"Aww… relax, Giles. I won't hurt him!" Buffy shot back.

"I'll try to not hurt you," Jonny jeered. With a resounding clash of staffs, they both fell back, breathing heavily.

"That was a rush," Buffy said, bursting into laughter, gasping for air. Jonny collapsed onto the floor, convulsing with laughter.

"Like that night, huh?"

"What night?" Giles asked, staring incredulously at the two teens.

"The night we met in a dark alley. I wiped out a few vamps, she thought I was one, and so we got into a little tussle." Jonny got up and dusted himself off. "You've improved."

"Thanks. So have you. Your blocks are less sloppy."

"Can it!"

"How's the research coming along, guys?" Buffy asked, loping over to the desks.

"As far as we can tell, it won't be good."

"How bad?"

"Well, remember the part about the earth tearing apart?"

"Yeah?" Buffy frowned, not liking Willow's tone.

"Well, it's gonna open up lotsa exits for the Hell dimensions." Willow looked up, almost apologetically for having to be the herald of bad news.

"It's okay, Will. We'll just deal with them all then."

"Buffy, you don't understand. There'll be a LOT of exits. Portals or dimensional rips or something. But whatever it is, it'll get very messy."

"How about a binding spell?" Jonny ventured, joining the cluster. "You said they were portals, right? Could you cast a binding spell? To close up all the portals."

Willow blanched. "Why are you looking at me?" She felt Oz squeeze her hand, and she squeezed back, not feeling quite as strong as she wanted.

"Well, you're the spell caster, right?" Jonny looked straight at her, his penetrating gaze piercing her. She felt a little ripple inside, and for one moment, she felt stronger. It was a fleeting moment, but it gave her enough to start.

"Yeah. But I only cast small spells. Make pencils fly and stuff."

"Will, you also restored Angel's soul. That was huge!" Buffy exclaimed.

"Stop looking at me!" Willow cried. "This isn't the same. We're talking vast amounts of magic here. Obscene quantities!"

"How obscene?"

"Prada boots obscene!"

"Oh…!" Buffy trailed off.

"I could get help." Jonny offered, somewhat reluctantly.

"Really? Where from?" Giles ventured, perking up.

"Back home. I'm not sure if he's able to perform binding spells, but it would be worth a shot." Jonny sighed. _Seth._

"When can you find out?" Giles was clearly excited about the prospect.

"Now. But how sure are we that these portals can be bound by magic? It was just a shot in the dark for me." Jonny drew out his cell phone.

"I dare wager that we could do it, if we had enough manpower," Giles said, wiping his glasses.

"Hey!" Willow protested. "Woman power too!"

"Yes, of course. I didn't mean to exclude your contributions."

"Give me a few minutes." Jonny stepped out of the library, speed-dialing Seth's phone.

JQJQJQ

MAINE

Seth sat outside, in the cold, watching the surf pound the jagged rocks below. His hands glowed, as he watched the desolate coast, the pulsating radiance. There was no color to it, just a brilliant iridescence.

"Why did you lie?" a soft voice asked. Seth turned around, the glow disappearing in an instant. "Why did you lie about your powers?" Jade repeated, her breath misting as she spoke.

"I didn't," Seth mumbled. "I'm a Healer. Nothing more."

"What was that then?" Jade demanded. "And at the I-1 base. I saw more than just healing, Seth."

"Leave me alone! I can do a little more than heal, okay? Are you happy?"

"Why are you afraid of yourself?" Jade ventured closer, pulling her coat tighter around herself.

"I'm not!"

"You deny yourself of your gifts…"

"Gifts!" Seth retorted. "Gifts, you say!"

"What did you do, Seth? Why are you so afraid to show your powers?"

Seth looked at her sullenly. _She knows, _he realized. She knew about him, his past. _But how?_

"How did you find out?" he asked softly. "I know that you know…" He trailed off, and turned away again, facing the horizon.

Jade laughed. "We go a long way back, Seth. You obviously don't remember, but then again, you were too young to have any memory of this. It must have been, what, fifteen years ago?"

Seth didn't respond.

"You know that you're adopted, right?" Jade ventured, her silky voice slightly aloof.

Seth snorted. "A mom of Gaelic heritage and dad who's a Sioux medicine man… I wonder what gave it away. Seriously, Jade, cut to the chase. It's too cold to be playing Family Trees right now!"

"Fine. I knew your parents." She paused. "Guess you didn't see that one coming."

Seth shrugged. "And?"

"When your parents were in I-1, they were placed in charge of the Special Phenomena Unit. Basically, they were in charge of dealing with the multi-dimensional aspects, which I-1 dabbled in. Inter-Dimensional Relation Officers was the coined terminology; ask them if you don't believe me." Jade half-smiled, in reminiscence of the good times. "Anyway, your mom and I were friends, having been boot camp partners for a while and all that. But she was always the one for diplomacy, I had my tactics…"

"You slept your way around," Seth interjected roughly. "Again, cut to the chase."

Jade looked at the boy with an amused smile. "Guess you kinda figured out that whole Jezebel thing, huh?" She received a blank stare in reply. "Anyway, we both know that this isn't your true form. You're not…" Jade stopped and gasped. Seth had bounded over to her, and had clamped his hand tightly over her mouth.

"Don't say it," he almost pleaded. "Please… not now… it's been so long. I've tried… I've tried not to…" His body trembled, his sobs wracking his entire body as he sank into the soft snow. "I've tried… it's not my fault."

Jade, still shocked from the sudden interruption stepped back. She tasted blood in her mouth. Seth's grip had been strong, remarkably forceful for a boy of his stature. She knelt next to his collapsed form, and turned his face to meet hers.

"Do you want to talk?"

"What's left? You know and I know." Seth blinked away his tears. "There's nothing left."

"Yes, there is."

"Like?"

"Like what you were meant to be. The potential you have." There was a pregnant pause, and Jade was well aware of the crashing surf and shifting winds.

Finally, Seth nodded. "Tell me."

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" Jade asked.

"My room."

* * *

Seth kicked off his boots and sat cross-legged on his bed. "Tell me," he said, a monotonous intone. 

"May I?" Jade asked, seating herself before he responded. "What do you want to know first?"

"What exactly am I?"

"You're I-1's secret weapon. The problem is, they never got the instruction manual on how to work you, so you're also a huge 'maybe'." Jade paused, and checked the boy's expression. Seeing nothing, she continued. "You were also the last thing that they ever transported from another dimension… as the consequences were uncertain."

Seth nodded. He cracked his knuckles, each crack a resolute audibility of how he felt.

"That's why they tried to destroy you, after they freaked out."

Seth straightened up at this. "What?" he exclaimed. "What the hell are you talking about? I-1didn't try to destroy me, they brought me here. To help out!"

"They changed their tune yes, or so it seems. But back when you manifested powers beyond their wildest comprehension, they were terrified. Remember, national security was still _numero__ uno_ on the agenda, and they weren't sure if bringing in a seemingly infinite well of power was beneficial to the country."

"So they decided to kill me off?" Seth's hands were now clenched into fists, his knuckles white against his tan skin. The veins in his skinny arms were bulging, and for a fleeting second, Jade wondered if she was in any danger right now, sitting next to the angry boy.

"Yes. Only you didn't let them."

"How?"

"You were brought through the dimensional gates as a newborn baby; it was the only way you could have been channeled through, contained in a human vessel. So, while the human part of you was completely natural, the power that dwells within isn't." Jade paused again. She straightened her legs. "So, baby right? Should have been pretty easy to destroy. That's where they made the single biggest mistake about misjudging size and experience.

"I kicked their asses didn't I?"

"No. I did." Jade snickered.

"But why?"

"I couldn't let them touch you."

Seth frowned, confused.

"You're my son." Jade turned away, blinking away tears.

Seth went limp. "I'm your son?"

Jade nodded. "Never would have guessed it, huh?"

"But how?"

"Do you actually want the biology lesson?"

"I mean how's that possible? If I'm some inter-dimensional being… how can you be my mom?"

"Because you're not, some inter-dimensional being, per se. Remember, it's only the force in you that's supernatural."

Realization dawned upon Seth. "You volunteered me for some crazy-ass I-1 agenda?" he demanded. "Seriously, was I that much of a burden?" he added, bitterly.

"Those were the days when I still took orders from them."

"So they just ordered you to hand me over, and you did?"

"Yes."

"Thanks, Mom. Seriously, thanks for everything."

"Look, I'm the reason you're still here today!" Jade interjected angrily. "Otherwise you would have been demon food in some hell dimension they were going to throw you into."

Seth was silent for a while, her words sinking in. "Why did you give me away to… my other parents?"

"Because I had to go into exile for a while. I couldn't keep running, with you. Not because you were a burden, but I just didn't want to put you through all that shit. Your parents offered more stability."

"Wouldn't I-1 had known?"

"We fooled them long enough. Your parents were being transferred anyway, so they claimed you as their own, took you far away where you would be safe. They could also help you develop your gifts."

"Trained me as a Healer."

"Yeah. But naturally, you surpassed them. It was only a matter of time before I-1 caught wind of you again."

"They didn't try to destroy me this time though."

"Yeah, well, they decided that since you'd mastered your powers, you could actually be of some use to them I guess."

"Why didn't my parents object?"

"It would have been inevitable. Regardless of consent, you would have been taken under I-1's wing eventually. And then you gave them the perfect excuse."

"The text?"

"The text," Jade affirmed. "I still have no idea what caused you act so stupidly, but then again, here we are, a daytime soap of errors."

"It was a harmless enough spell… I didn't think it would be permanent."

"And yet, it was." Jade reached over and pulled Seth's shirt up to reveal a long scar that ran from his heart down his side." He had told Jonny that it had been a bad biking accident.

"Okay, so I absorbed the book."

"It wasn't just any book, Seth. It was a very powerful spell book, ancient and untapped for many centuries. You were dealing with potent forces… I would have thought you were at least taught that much."

"I dunno, I was just drawn to it, I guess… it was just something that I _needed _to do." Seth glanced at the clock on his bedside. It was nearly ten. "But the moment I touched it, I felt it become a part of me. It was weird. Then, it was terrifying. I couldn't let go, it just…"

"Consumed you?" Jade concluded. "No, it didn't. You did it."

"How? I didn't even know that would happen. I didn't plan on doing it, if that's what you're hinting at."

"Seth, you're a potent magical force yourself. In fact, you're drawn to magic. It's in you. In fact, magic's drawn to you as well."

"Great. So it's my fault that I'm a walking lightning rod?"

Jade shook her head. "Let's not even get to that. The point is, you absorbed that book. Entirely! They couldn't find a single incantation left in that book when they found you."

"I was gone for a long time…" Seth looked away. He fingered the scar under his shirt, feeling the raised welt of flesh. "It was a very dark place…" He shuddered and hugged his knees.

Jade looked at him now, and saw not the mage he was rumored to be, but a young boy. Her son. "So then I-1 of course heard about it. The energy levels in your vicinity at that point were off the charts. In fact, I heard that a few of the I-1 guys thought that it was a malfunction… No one had seen spikes that high before, at least not from an isolated source. You were a freakin' Christmas tree on the map!"

Seth snickered. "And so they trained me in my control of magic. Told me to suppress it. To only use it for healing."

"And the book?"

Seth pointed to his head, and made a twisting motion and a clicking sound. "Locked away. They made sure of that." He gave a wry smile. "Radical character modification." He laughed bitterly. "The bastards hurt me so bad that it took all my control to never unleash anything. And then, it was gone. I couldn't do it anymore. That sense of power in me… Gone!" He stood up.

"So there, Jade. It's not that I'm afraid of it anymore. I was. But it's gone now. They put it into a little box somewhere, locked it, and threw away the key."

"It's still in there."

"Yeah, but I can't access it. It's that simple, Jade. It's there, but I can't get in. I can't get into my own head!" Seth paced to the window. "All that's left are the simple tricks; rapid shifts in atmospheric temperature, altering the density of air… that kind of child's play that I had learnt on my own."

"You'll need to unlock it."

Seth turned around, his body tense with anger. "I can't! I can't, do you not understand? I fuckin' can't!" His hands were glowing again.

"What about that?" Jade asked.

"What about it? It's simple… child's play." He tossed the glowing orb of writhing energy from one hand to the other.

"Don't you want to be able to use them again?" The silence between them was thick. Suddenly, a ringing shattered the moment. Seth flipped open his cell phone. _Jon._

"Speak," was his simple command. He listened intently for a few minutes, and then said, "I'll try." He snapped the phone shut. Looking at Jade, he asked, "What do you have planned?"

"Pack," she said, leaving the room.

"Where are we going?"

"You won't be needing too many sweaters."

* * *

"Not a smart move, Jade. Divided fronts are not what we need right now," Race said, his brow creased. 

"It might be the only chance you have, Bannon. Let's not lie. We both know that this is gonna be a whole lot bigger than we've played it up to be."

Race stayed silent. He crossed his arms, paced two steps, uncrossed his arms, and then crossed them again. "I still don't like it."

"You of all people should know when tough choices have to be made. It's not a matter of liking the business, Bannon. It's a matter of saving the world."

"Now you sound like an I-1 agent." Race snickered, the frown disappearing for a second.

"Whatever."

"You will be careful?"

Jade smiled demurely. "Aren't I always?"

"I mean it!"

"I love you, Bannon. But you're not family… yet."

"Fine."

JQJQJQ

ISRAEL

"Why are we going back there?"

"You know why."

"Jonny got his sword from that hellhole! There's nothing else there!"

"Yes there is. You felt it."

"No I didn't," he lied. _Weak._

"It's an endless well of power, Seth. If you can tap into it, _maybe_ you can help Jonny."

"That was a low blow, Jade."

"It worked didn't it?" Seth did not answer. He watched the clouds fly by as Jade piloted the Dragonfly across the skies. "Belt up, kid. We're landing."

* * *

"Eight in the morning, Jade. That's like ten the night before in Cali." Seth held on tight to his seat as they charged through the desert. The desert heat had not kicked in yet, and for now, it was definitely chilly. 

"Chill. We'll get there."

"It took a long time the last time."

"We weren't sure of the way the last time. This time I am. So just shut up and let me drive!"

"Damn desert!"

Jade screeched to a halt, throwing up a massive cloud of dust. "Get out, we're here!"

"Where?"

"The gap. Now, we walk, just like the last time. Can you remember how to?"

Seth glared at her. "Yes."

"Fine, that's where we're headed. This is the easy part."

Seth hoisted his pack, grunted in response and began to walk. "What if this is pointless?" he asked suddenly. "What if whatever it is that you intend does not happen?"

"It's a gamble. That's life. You throw your dice and watch it roll. If you win, that's great. If you lose, then you haul ass and hussle!"

"What are you? A football coach?" he asked incredulously. "That's gotta be the stupidest thing I've ever heard.

"Bit of wisdom if you'll take it. But Seth…"

"Yeah?"

"Shut the hell up! Stop trying to be a wiseass. Really, it's not your best feature."

"And what would my best feature be?" Seth snapped back, hustling.

"What does Jonny think?" Jade laughed at her son's obvious embarrassment.

"My eyes."

Jade smiled. "They're mine, ya know."

Seth laughed, a genuine laugh. For the first time, Jade sensed warmth in the boy, a soft ripple of tenderness. Looking at him now, it was almost impossible to recover the moment. Standing on a shallow rise, silhouetted against the rising sun, he appeared almost harsh; rigid and beautiful, like a monument of granite. "What?" he asked, looking at her as she watched him. "Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing. Time's wasting." She jogged up the rise to join him. "Let's move!"

"Yes, coach!" She turned and caught a glimpse of that smile again.

* * *

"Here we are," he said, trying his darndest to pull off a 'Vanna White.' 

"A little more hairspray and a whole lot less attitude," she said, flashing a smile at his annoyed glare.

"Any ideas on how we're gonna get in?" Seth pointed to the massive rockslide that had resulted from their last adventure.

"Work. A lot of it!"

"You're gonna need a whole army to move those."

"Already done."

"What?"

"You heard me. I've already called for backup."

"When?"

"Before we left the Dragonfly. All we have to do now is plant the homing beacon and the drop-off will be here in less than an hour."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No."

Seth shrugged. "What're we waiting for then?"

Jade unslung her pack and dug out a small device and placed it on the rocks. Flicking a switch, it unfolded, forming a small dish. Keying in a PIN, Jade activated it. "Showtime."

To be continued…


	18. Chapter 18: The Storm

Date: June 17th, 2005

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category: A, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating: Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note: This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

**THE STORM**

"I can't believe that you got I-1 into this," Seth muttered, watching as a dozen men scrambled about the rocks, placing mini-detonators.

"Hey, you said go ahead." Jade shielded her eyes as she studied the activity. Yelling a few sharp orders, she turned to face Seth who was also watching the activity intently.

"Like I had a choice. We need all that rock cleared, and there's no way in hell the two of us could move them."

"Since when did you adopt _Realpolitik _as a philosophy of life?"

"Since it became necessary for the survival of the damn human population."

"Stand back!" came a shout, and there was a scramble for cover. A series of small explosions sent clouds of dust into the air, and with the fine mist came the heavier pelting of pulverized rock.

Seth took a look at the damage done so far. A large section of the rockslide had been blown away, but there was still a long way to go before they could call the path cleared. "It's noon, Jade. Time's ticking away… and I still have no idea what I'm expected to do back in there."

"You'll figure it out when you get there."

"How am I gonna figure it out when I don't have a friggin' idea what to do?"

Jade ignored him and went back to commanding the bomb squad. "C'mon guys! We're on a schedule here!"

JQJQJQ

MAINE

"We need a plan to keep the people indoors for the night," Benton said, glancing at the clock. It was about two in the morning. "Today's the day."

"That is not going to be easy, Father," Hadji said, looking up from his research. "We have no logical reason to give them."

Benton snorted, knowing the truth in his son's words. "How about saving their asses?" He grunted in frustration, knowing that it was to no avail.

"I'm patrolling tonight. Basically damage control," Race announced, coming out of the extended weapons closet. A double-barrel shotgun rested easily in his arms, and a couple of Uzis hung from their holsters.

"You mean we are," Benton said, walking into the closet. It was essentially a room by itself, lined with weapons, arranged neatly by function.

"Oh no you're NOT!" Race said, ducking back into the room.

"You can't stop me, Race."

"I'm responsible for your safety!"

"Then protect me if you must, but I'm not staying in here while my town goes to hell!"

"I can't protect you and fight at the same time."

"You won't have to. He picked up a slender cane made of highly polished dark wood and tested its weight in his hands. "This will do." He scanned the rest of the racks for other weapons. Testing the weight of several guns, he finally decided on two semi-autos. "Ya know, Race, we probably have one of the biggest collections of black market weaponry in the world."

"If you're ever caught, my name never comes up." Race turned to walk out as Hadji entered and coolly selected his own weapons.

"And what do you think you're doing?" Benton demanded.

"Same as you."

"No way!" was the unanimous reply from both Benton and Race.

"I'm the only one here besides Race who's able to perform spells of any sort, and therefore I'm coming!" Benton opened his mouth to protest. "No, Father, I'm coming!" That was it. No more discussion.

The three men stood fully armed in the room and stared at each other.

And broke out in laughter. Battle was not till the next night.

"Anyone up for a beer and a game of pool?" Race looked around.

"I'm game."

"Why not?"

JQJQJQ

SUNNYDALE

"Get out of here!"

"Giles, we're just training," Buffy protested.

"I know… but go out and do whatever it is that you kids do these days. Party. Boogie. Whatever." Giles struggled to maintain his composure.

"Apocalypse remember, Giles?"

"I know. But maybe you should enjoy tonight for what it's worth."

"Not the best outlook in things here," she admonished.

"Buffy," he said, looking straight into her eyes. "I have no doubt whatsoever that we'll defeat whatever it is that'll come. But for tonight, go out and live."

"Are you serious?"

"Have you ever known me to not be serious, Buffy?"

"Point taken." She grabbed her jacket and bag and bounced up the stairs. "Off we go then!"

Willow looked up from her book. "Where to?"

"The Bronze I guess?"

Oz nodded in approval. Xander sprang up and slammed his book shut, emitting a cloud of dust that elicited a glare from Cordelia. "Get your party groove on, folks!"

"Tell me again why I'm dating this loser?" Cordy snipped.

"Because Cordy, my love, you can't resist my moves!" Xander did his best Elvis rendition.

"Godzilla had more grace," she shot back.

"Who was talking about dancing?" An awkward moment of silence ensued.

"Xander, remember that talk we had about over-sharing? This would be a direct violation of the ground rules." Buffy clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Where's the new guy?" Oz asked, looking around.

"Here." Angel stood in the doorway of the library, his best brooding look on.

"My, aren't we looking debonair tonight?" Xander mused. "But we weren't talking about you. The other new guy."

Jonny stuck his head out of Giles office. "What about me?"

"Get your stuff. We're going out," Buffy said.

"Patrolling?"  
"You men really have a one-track mind, don't you? No, chillin'!"

"Cool."

* * *

"You would think that everyone would be laying low for a while, apocalypse and all headed this way." Cordy looked around the crowded space. Perched on Xander's lap, she surveyed the room with hawk-like vigilance.

"I'm sorry, Cor. I think we forgot to mass-IM them the memo." Xander lay back contented. He pulled her down to him again.

"Eew… Xander…!"

"Hey, tonight may be the last!" She didn't protest and snuggled up to him in their corner.

The dance floor was packed like any other night. Willow watched as Buffy danced with Angel in the middle of the floor.

"You want to dance?" Oz whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her lobe.

Willow shook her head. "Maybe a slow one later."

Oz nodded. That was all she needed. She sighed and snuggled up to his chest and kissed him on his cheek. Oz returned it.

"You think we'll ever have what they have?" Willow asked. "I mean, it's not that this isn't good… but…"

"Shh… I love you. That's all there is to it." He kissed her softly. "Okay?"

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in closer. "Better."

* * *

Jonny watched from the bridge over the dance floor. In the dim lights, he saw Angel holding Buffy close. He saw Xander putting the moves on Cordelia, and they were some of the most original ones he had ever seen in his life, and she didn't seem to be complaining. In their own private world, Willow and Oz were cuddled, oblivious to the world.

Watching them, all of them now, he realized what made her so strong. This ragtag team was all she had, but it was all she needed. It wasn't a simple case of strength in numbers. It was what each one was willing to bring to the fight.

He thought of Jessie. It had been a while since he had last really thought about her. A flash of guilt shot through him. Seth had not been a replacement, but he had filled up some of the gaps in his life then. Looking down on the Slayer and her vampire lover, he wished for a moment that it was Jessie and him. He smiled at the memory of seeing _her_ dance. She was always so alive.

He had never seen Seth dance though. They had kept their thing quiet. Partially because Seth didn't want to make a thing out of it. Partially because he wasn't sure about what they had. He still didn't. The music switched, a slow dance came on. He recognized it as one of Jessie's favorites. Watching as Buffy and Angel swayed gently in each other's arms, he sang along.

* * *

"Now?" Oz asked. Willow nodded. They got up and moved to the middle of the floor. Willow draped her arms on Oz's shoulders as he held her eyes with him. Swaying slowly, Willow felt herself leaning on him, his heartbeat drowning out the music.

"Look at them, Oz. You think they'll ever be together? Like for real?"

He kissed her hair. "Things will work out." Typical Oz-cryptic answer. But she bought it.

* * *

"I'm scared." It was a simple statement, but it got him to look at her harder than she had ever remembered. "About tomorrow night, that is."

"I'll protect you." He caressed her cheek, smiling his special smile for her.

"It's not just that. It's never gonna end is it, Angel? I'm going to have to fight till the day I die, and I'll have to die fighting."

He was silent as she laid her head on his chest. The slow beat of the song was all she heard, and a part of her yearned for the sycophantic thump of Angel's heart. They danced; a dance for the night.

Maybe just for the night.

But for now, it was all the she could hold on to.

Next to her now, Willow and Oz swayed gently. The final strains of the song faded.

JQJQJQ

ISRAEL

Another explosion of rock resounded hollowly in the desert air. A victorious call came over the cloud of dust. A rousing cheer roused Seth from his fetal position in the shade. Stretching, he looked in the general vicinity of the cave entrance. As the dust cleared, he saw that the final explosion has indeed ripped a huge opening in the solid rockslide.

The sky was a clear purple, the sun just beginning to rise on the horizon. Stars still twinkled, a muted sparkle against the veil of daylight that now crept across the cloudless sky. Hitting the illuminator button on his watch, he checked the time. About five in the morning. Doing the math quickly, he figured it had to be around seven in the evening back in California. Evening.

He sat up and pushed aside the blanket that covered him. "Jade?" The tent was empty.

"You're needed. Get out now!" a voice barked at him. Looking at the doorway, he saw one of the operatives standing there. _Lieutenant Caine. _"Move it!"

Seth grunted in response and scrambled out of the tent, tugging his boots on as he tumbled out into the sand. The men had gathered about the entrance, and they were waiting for something to happen. _They were waiting for him,_ he realized. They were waiting for him to lead the way into the cave.

He stepped as purposefully towards the small congregation, feeling the odd need to impress. He paused for a moment to look at them, and then stepped into the darkness. As he ran his hands on the surface of the walls, he felt a strange pull, almost like a magnet being pulled towards a metal bar set far away. The ground was uneven from the previous disaster, but most of it was just gravel and dust now as the team had effectively blown a tunnel through the solid rock. The runes and hieroglyphs were gone, destroyed by the explosions. But the walls still spoke of untold power.

Power untamable.

Behind him, men with ultra-modern LED flashlights followed, treading carefully. Their beams illuminating the destroyed rock formations. Jagged shadows leered and twisted away as the beams passed. Jade walked next to him, watching him intently. He could feel her eyes on him as they navigated the tunnel, descending into the darkness. The air got heavier, less wholesome as they trod through.

Suddenly, he lost his footing on a loose rock and slipped down, falling off a sheer drop into the darkness.

"Seth!" Jade yelled, dashing to the drop.

"I'm okay. I just found the shortcut, that's all," came his muffled reply. "Damn, it's dark in here."

"Seth, don't move until we get there. You never know how close you are to a ledge!"

"I'm fine." Jade saw a milky glow in the darkness and knew that he was using his magic. "Careful, you don't wanna exhaust yourself before the big showdown."

She slipped the drop and found herself standing next to Seth in the vast underground canyon again. It was still essentially the same, a vast open area with cracks and drops that fell into total darkness. She heard the rest of the troop come shuffling down the narrow opening.

"Damn!" Caine muttered as he surveyed the area. "Where are we?"

"Underground," Seth mumbled, flashing the man a look of displeasure. "Where'd you think?"

Caine advanced threateningly, but Seth flashed a ball of energy in front of him. "You really wanna do that?" Caine backed down, glaring viciously. "I thought so." Looking at Jade, he said, "Now what?"

"Remember what I told you? About how magic is drawn to you?"

Seth nodded.

"That's all I have. You're on your own on this one. You feel the energy, I know you do. You just have to tap into it somehow."

"I really don't know how to."

"Draw it to you, Seth. You have to. The world is going to hell right about now, and _he_ needs you to be able to do this."

Seth walked over to the abyss and stared down into the hidden depths. _Shit!_

JQJQJQ

SUNNYDALE

The sun was sinking below the horizon. Jonny looked on with grim indifference. The Blade of Aefriol was strapped to his back. A stake was stashed in the reinforced pocket of his leather jacket. He tapped his fingers rhythmically on the door frame, waiting for Angel to emerge from his bedroom.

"It's showtime," Angel said, coming out. Straightening the collar of his black duster, he was an image of impeccable cool and edginess. "You ready?"

Jonny nodded. "Got a ride?"

"No. But I know a shortcut."

"That'll work. We just need to get to the library as soon as possible."

"Fifteen minutes, tops."

"Lead the way."

* * *

Oz watched as the pencil did a mad dance of death as it spun out of control. "Calm down," he said quietly as it embedded itself in the spine of an old tome. "Breathe."

"You try being calm when there's all this pressure on you!" Willow cried; her eyes wide with panic. "I can't even keep a pencil in constant rotation!"

"On the bright side, that pencil thing you just did – very handy against vamps." He smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. "You can do this, Will." He pulled her close, and she knew it was his way of saying that she could depend on him, lean on him for support. He was her rock after all.

"Okay, once more." She sat up straight and focused on yet another pencil, trying to keep her focus. The pencil rose and began to spin slowly, picking up speed as it went along. Suddenly, the library doors banged open and her focus was thrown. The pencil made a straight line for Angel.

"NO!" she cried, knowing that it was an ashy end for the vampire if it hit him. It never did.

Jonny caught the pencil an inch away from the vampire's chest. He smiled and walked over to Willow and handed it back to her. "Relax. I know how you feel… or at least I know someone who does."

She took the pencil and smiled nervously. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Did Oz tell you that you could?" She nodded in response. "Then, I believe him." Turning, he looked at Giles and smiled. "We come to it at last, huh?"

Giles nodded. "That's an interesting looking sword you have there."

Jonny grinned. "It's actually kinda ancient."

"I can tell. May I take a look at it?" Giles asked, approaching him.

Jonny shrugged and unsheathed the sword. He handed it over to the Watcher, who studied it intently with a scholarly air. Several times, his brow furrowed at a sequence of runes, and once or twice, he flipped through a few books.

"Remarkable," he muttered under his breath. "Where did you get this?" he asked, looking up.

"Long story, Giles. But let's just say that it wasn't easy, and I nearly died for it." Jonny grinned. "If we get through this, you'll get the whole story."

"The Blade of Aefriol," the Watcher intoned, peering at the boy, marking the astonished expression on his face.

"How did you…?"

"I'm a Watcher. The Blade's a remarkable artifact, a legend almost. Any Watcher worthy of a Slayer has at least heard of the Blade, if not only whispers. In fact, your line of slayers is not as obscure as you thought. But we always just assumed the legend to be just that, a legend. Almost a myth, really."

"Present in the flesh, Giles old boy!" He sat down and threw a glance at the clock. "Where's Buffy?"

"She went home to take care of some business," Giles said, not saying anymore. Jonny knew he meant her mother, and he was glad. He had completely forgotten about her, and he knew how much she meant to Buffy. In fact, he had completely forgotten that there were probably going to be casualties tonight.

_Dad!_

Getting up, he went behind the stacks and called his father's cell. Satisfied, he rejoined the rest. Buffy had just arrived, her bag slung on her shoulder.

"Okay, here's the plan. Divide and conquer." She looked around. "Two teams." She looked up and caught Jonny's eye.

Seeing her nod, Jonny understood that she meant that he would be leading a group. "Okay."

"Angel, Xander, Willow. You're with me."

"That means the rest of you are with me." Jonny grinned, but even he felt the lack of humor. "How about the portals?"

"Willow can handle them." Squeezing Willow's hand, she added, "If she feels up to it."

"I'll be okay." She sounded more resolute than she felt.

"And Giles has some experience with magic too."

Jonny nodded. "Okay then, out we go."

JQJQJQ

MAINE

Benton walked down an alley, hearing the steady crunching of snow under his boots. Steam rose from the vents, obscuring his vision slightly. The polished cane was warm where his hands gripped it.

A soft scuffle.

He turned around, and saw the tail of rat disappear behind a pile of trash. _Jesus, that was huge! _Smiling, he turned again…

And whipped his cane about, pulling out a slender blade from the sheath, and neatly lobbing off a vampire's head. As the head rolled and disintegrated, he took a deep breath. It felt good to be out in the field again.

The rapid fall of running feet alerted him. Whirling around, blade poised, he came face to face with Race and Hadji.

"Don't ever do that again, Doc!" Race warned. "This is not the best time to be running off alone."

Benton smiled. "I had to test something out." He brandished the sword a little before sheathing it. "What's the count so far?"

"Three vampires… and we spotted some giant rat-like creature scampering this way.

"Black and bristly?"

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"It's behind you." Benton pulled out his sword again. The creature's red eyes glowed in the dark. There were three short releases, and it fell dead. _Lesser demon, _Benton noted. Hadji's uzis still smoked.

"Rathika demons. Lesser demons of the underground. Just like oversized sewer rats," Hadji noted.

"Let's get out of this alley. It's a deathtrap waiting to happen," Race said, hurrying to the exit. Sliding behind the wheel, Race started the engine. The SUV came to life as the other two climbed in.

"To trouble I guess." Benton fingered his cane as he peered out into the quiet neighborhood. From their vantage point, the town below was in full illumination. Of flames. The sky crackled with electricity, each shot of lightning rending the clouds.

_Hell on earth.

* * *

_

"Hang on!" Race ploughed the vehicle into a strange beast, launching it several feet in the air before it crashed through the window of a bookstore. The streets were in utter chaos, cars slipping on the snow as they charged desperately. A horde of vampires had begun their bloodlust, picking off panicked bystanders one at a time.

"Stop here, Race!" The doors were thrown open as they rushed out. Race dusted two vampires from the double-bolt crossbow he carried. Reloading quickly, He shot another in the eye and dusted another.

"Run! Just run!" Benton yelled, whipping his blade around and disemboweling a vampire before taking off her head with an upward swing. A heavy blow knocked his sword out of his hands and another caught his heavily in the gut. As he fell, he felt a heavy mass slam into him. Pulling out a vial of holy water, he slammed it heavily onto the vampire's face, so hard that the glass bit into his own hand. As the vampire moaned and grabbed at his sizzling flesh, Benton fought his way to his feet and grabbing a fallen crossbow bolt, plunged it into the chest cavity. He didn't wait to watch the disintegration. Grabbing his sword, he hacked off the arm of a heavy looking female who had pressed Hadji against a wall.

Feeling the lost of pressure, Hadji drove his stake through her heart before moving on to the next vamp. It was a freakin' massacre. People were dying all around, and there was nothing that three men could do.

Suddenly, they heard the loud workings of heavy engines. Ten Hummers pulled up, and immediately military personnel began to pour out to dispatch the vampires with rapid fire.

"Dr. Quest. Race Bannon." Seeing them nod, the young operative continued, "Sergeant Cole from I-1."

"Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle!" Race exclaimed.

"We were ordered to assist you in any manner possible."

"Ordered by whom?" Benton pressed.

"Your son, sir."

Hadji laughed out loud. "Jonny, my brother. Vishnu smiles upon you yet!"

"Eliminate all hostiles in sight. Do not waste ammo on the vampires; stakes and decapitation are your best bet. Ignition is another option. All other hostiles are to be taken out in whichever manner seems appropriate!" Race took over. "And sergeant… welcome to the Hellmouth!"

JQJQJQ

SUNNYDALE

Prumiva stood on the hill, watching the destruction of her doing. The streets were ablaze, lines of fire that branched everywhere, consuming everything within its fiery grasp. The rampant sirens that blared brazenly were of no more use than the foolish mortals running about. Noble beings to put their lives on the line but, foolish nonetheless.

She sipped her glass, savoring the taste of freshly drawn blood. Draining it, she handed it to her servant. "More," was her simple command. She barely recognized his nod. Her gaze was fixed intently on the chaos that reigned. Looking up, she saw that the sky had shattered; clouds of ashy black were now veined with crimson. Like the blood that laced her lips. Each lightning crash cracked the granite sky even more. A tremor passed under her feet, a stronger rumbling than before.

_They were waking up._

The portents were in place. The sky bled, the earth shook. The Old Ones would awaken.

"Kyle! My blood!" she snapped, turning around. She saw him tremble as he tapped a young boy, strung up like the fallen messiah.

"He's almost dry, mistress," Kyle said, stabbing the boy once more, trying to get him to bleed faster. The boy whimpered, a weak exhalation. Dried tear tracks were the only sign that this tattered effigy had once been alive. The rest of him resembled marble now, his white skin veined blue. A beautiful marble boy.

"Forget it!" she said. Going up to him, she plunged her fangs into his throat and sucked. Drawing her own blood from her wrist, she pressed it to the boy's lips. "Drink!"

She felt the weak suction on her wrist grow stronger with each deliberate sip. "Enough!" She ripped her wrist away from the greedy vampire-child. As he fell into a deep slumber, she knew that he would awaken soon, with the blood-thirst running in his veins. "Get another. He will need to feed soon!"

* * *

"Giles, where is the highest point of view in Sunnydale?" Jonny asked, twirling his stake as they walked down the street.

Cordelia cleared her throat uncomfortably at that. "There is a hill… with a view of the city and all…"

"That'll work. We should probably head that way."

"Why?"  
"If Prumiva is watching her handiwork right now, where do you think she would be?"

"By God! I never even thought about her. I completely forgot that she was involved in this!" Giles exclaimed.

"Yeah well, she killed my girlfriend. So I didn't forget." His eyes shot at a shadow. He had caught the slightest hint of movement.

"Prepare yourselves," he said, not changing the even tone of his voice. _No point letting them know that their cover was blown. _"They're all around us." He heard Cordelia breathe sharply, and slowed down his pace to match hers. "Stay close." He met her eyes and held them for a moment. Then…

Three vampires leapt out of the shadows ahead of them, and another five from behind. Several flanked the first wave, but Jonny lost count as he flew into action. Whipping out the Blade, he dismembered two of the first batch, letting Oz and Giles take care of them. He watched Cordelia stake one of them from the corner of his eye and smiled. Slamming the broad side of the Blade on the head of another, he plunged a stake deep into its heart before slamming a heavy kick into another.  
"Giles, they have to be protecting something! Vampires don't hunt in packs!" Jonny yelled, decapitating yet another vamp.

Giles was already on his way to the shadows, pulling Cordy with him as Oz took care of the rest of the vampires that lay helplessly on the ground. As they approached the inky darkness, Giles realized that the shade was not caused by any shadow, but was a portal itself; an inky pool of air that pulsed and stirred.

"Oh good Lord!" he rasped, as it began to pulse again, the stirring becoming more intense. "Cordy, hold on to this!" He handed her a heavy book and began to draw in the dirt, digging his fingers deep into the soil.

"Giles, this is no time to be leaving a mark!" Cordy said, her voice trembling a little as fingers emerged from the pulsating cloud. "Giles…!"

"Shut up!" he commanded, and she obeyed meekly. "Watch my back," he said, in a gentler tone, and smiled what he hoped was a reassuring grin. Sitting down next to the charm he had drawn in the earth, he began to chant, spreading his arms wide. The portal began to spread.

"Close the damn thing!" Jonny yelled, slamming yet another vampire into the ground before finishing it off. "Oz, use this!" He handed Oz a machete he had stowed in his bag.

"Giles… it's not working…!" The fingers were now fully visible, and an arm was beginning to emerge. The talons were just several inches away from Giles' head, and although he could not see them with his eyes closed in concentration, he knew that he was in danger. His chanting became more intense as the pulsing of the portal began to magnify.

A shriek tore through the night, and as he opened his eyes, he saw that Cordy had stuck a stake into the forearm that had nearly taken his head off. She screamed as it whipped at her, ripping part of her jacket. A flash of steel caught his eye and the arm lay lifeless on the ground. Another shriek, this one more terrifying ripped through the night.

"… Arach necropetlo carach!" Giles yelled, clapping his hands together. The portal glimmered one last time, and then shrunk into itself.

"Great! Now we have about a billion more of those to close, and we'll be set." Jonny grinned, swabbing at the deep scratch he had gotten on his cheek. It was already beginning to clot, but it did give him the appearance of a war hero.

Oz checked his watch. "Only ten more hours to go."

"I don't think splitting up was a great idea," Jonny muttered.

* * *

"This was a rotten idea!" Buffy yelled, staking a vampire before throwing another into the path of a speeding car. The vampire thunked heavily on the hood, making a huge dent, before rolling off. The car sped away, but not before Buffy caught the panicked look on the driver's face. "Will, how's that portal coming along?"

Willow stood in the midst of the chaos, chanting calmly. Amidst the madness, Buffy thought she looked like the pillar of tranquility as she focused her energy on closing the hell-gate. A scaly demon launched itself at her, razor-sharp claws extended to take her down.

"Will!" Buffy yelled, breaking into a helpless run as she knew her friend would be taken down in an instant. Even then, she saw a blur leap up to meet the creature, and cringed at the loud smack of bodies. The scaly demon fell dead, neck ripped and throat exposed.

Angel wiped his face, his fangs bloodied from the attack. "Damn, that's just nasty!" He spat on the ground, a bloody glob and made a face. "Broccoli," he affirmed.

Xander swung his sword in a wide arc, not the most polished swing, but it got the work done. Two vampires dusted immediately while the third lost an eye. Xander pulled out his stake and prepared to do some one-on-one dusting when another vampire crashed into him, propelling him forward. The stake plunged into the heart of the blinded vamp, and Xander fell through the cloud of dust and slammed hard into the wet asphalt. "Buff! Some help here!"

Seeing her friend pinned to the ground, Buffy staked the vampire she was fighting and threw her stake at the one on Xander. It met its mark right on, and the vamp disintegrated, just like all the rest.

_This would be Martha Stewart's worst nightmare,_ she mussed.

"Buffy!" She saw Jonny and the rest running up the street. "Not a good idea, this whole splitting up deal," he said, grinning. Without another word, he launched himself into battle-mode, taking out vampires so quickly that it left the rest of them room to take care of the other hellish beings that had managed to escape from the portal.

Willow slumped down, exhausted but exhilarated from her work. The portal was sealed. She was exhausted and exhilarated from her work. She felt a strong pair of arms catch her as she fell, and looked gratefully at Oz's concerned face. "I'm okay," she told him. "Just a little woozy."

"Oz, get Willow out of there!" Giles yelled, fending off three vampires with a crucifix, stake poised for the offensive. From the corner of his eye, he observed the new slayer at work. He wielded that sword with deadly potency. _Such fluidity did not simply come from years of practice with arms, _Giles thought. _There was something else. Like it was made for him! _he realized. He hoped that maybe somewhere, there was such a weapon for Buffy. _I've never heard of such a weapon though, _he grimaced. But then again, the whole Destined line had been nothing more than a myth – a Watcher's urban legend – till now.

"There are too many of them!" Cordelia screamed, her hair disheveled from a tussle. "We don't all have super-slayer powers!"

"Cordelia's right! Regroup now! Back to the library!" Giles yelled, staking another vampire. _Where on earth are they all coming from? Has there been a brethren of breeding vampires?_

Giles glanced at the sky and shuddered. It was an angry red now; red as blood where the sky peeped out from behind the black clouds – clouds so dense that they looked like chunks of solid rock. Lightining flashed, slashing through the heavens.

Angel looked up too. The scent of rain was heavy in the air; he could already smell the distant rainfall. But the air also smelled of something else… evil. "Buffy! Library now!" he kicked a demon carcass out of the way and grabbed the Slayer's arm. "Let's go!"

He saw the frustration in her eyes. _She's angry to back down, _he realized. "Come on… we need to regroup. Figure out a new plan of action." That did the trick, she was satiated for now.

* * *

Rain poured down, the heavy drops splashing the windows as Jonny looked out. "Well, at least that takes care of some of the fires." He was restless. It had started raining just before they made it back, and they were soaked, for the most part.

His wet clothes were beginning to bug him as they dripped everywhere. He studied a soggy map, locating the hill Cordy had mentioned earlier.

"What's the plan?" Xander asked, wincing as Cordy swabbed a cut on his cheek with an alcohol swab. "Oww… gently Cordy. No need to get rough now!"

"Just take it!" she snapped back, but he could see that she was near to tears herself. He pulled her into a hug. "It'll be okay," he whispered. He felt her nod her head, trusting him.

"We go for Prumiva," Jonny said suddenly. "Giles, do you have a car?"

Giles nodded. "But…"

"No buts. I'll go… just lend me your car, or come with me if you're gonna be antsy about it! Point is, I'm going to face her."

"You can't go alone!" Buffy said, her wet hair pulled back from her face.

"Your city needs you to protect it. I've got back-up on the other side of the world working on this."

"You're not even sure if he'll be able to deliver. And even if he does, you have no idea what he'll be able to do. This is suicide!"

"It still has to be done, Buffy." He stopped pacing and looked at her. "This isn't the big show yet… there'll be fireworks still… and if that happens, we're all gonna die!"

"Let him go," Angel said softly, coming up behind her. "He's right. You've a city to protect. Let him do his job."

"It's not his job to die!" she cried.

"It is his job to protect, and you know that damn well!" Angel said.

"Why don't we all go look for this über-vamp?" Willow asked, her voice shrinking as the magnitude of the ordeal hit her.

"Coz someone's gotta be taking care of business while I work on shutting down the main event. Remember the prophecy? The Old Ones will awaken? Not exactly sure what that entails… but it doesn't sound good."

Suddenly, the floor pitched, and the room rocked violently, the rumbling terrifyingly loud. Books fell off the shelves as shelves pitched forward and crashed.

"Everybody outside now!" Giles yelled, grabbing his weapons and hurrying everyone else. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the tremor ceased.

"The earth will rend and tear," Jonny intoned, pointing to the huge crack that ran across the floor.

"Giles… the Hellmouth," Buffy said, looking fearfully at the floor.

"Hopefully that will not be enough to open it yet. But Jonny's right, Buffy. There are potent forces at work tonight; forces we cannot hope to fight by ourselves without going for the core."

"Giles. Keys." Instead, Cordelia tossed him her keys. "Red Mazda at the back," she said. "Please don't scratch it… I'm already in trouble about the bumper."

Jonny nodded. "Stay together and watch each other's back."

JQJQJQ

MAINE

Benton noted with grim chagrin that the situation was in control. The fires still raged; every once in a while, another explosion triggered a whole new series of fires. The general situation was not as dire as it would appear at first. The vampire onslaught was now under control, with I-1 taking care of the otherwise massacre. There had been only three fatalities in the I-1 personnel as yet, and several wounded men and women. Otherwise, Benton had to admit that I-1 had trained their operatives well, and he could only hope that the Watcher's Council could boast the same.

He watched as Race slammed a vampire into the hood of a car before finishing it off. Hadji was deep in meditation, performing the ancient binding spells they had discovered. Several of the I-1 operatives were mages-in-training, and one was a druid of renowned power. They were doing their best to shut down the multiple portals that had opened up all around.

"Benton, behind you!"

He reacted before he saw the attack, dropping to the ground and rolling. In almost slow-motion action, he saw a blade pass over his head and bite into the concrete wall. Sparks leapt off from the heavy contact. The demon sneered at him, fangs bared and dripping with saliva. With a ferocious yank, it pulled the blade free from the concrete, scattering tiny chunks of pulverized debris. With a snarl, it leapt at Benton, blades poised for another blow.

Benton pulled out the semi-autos at his side and released three rapid fire shots. Each one hit the spot with deadly accuracy and the demon fell dead before it could retract the blades into his forearms. As he stumbled clumsily back to his feet, a violent tremor sent his sprawling again.

The road groaned in protest as heavy cracks traced their way, some parts erupting in a spray of asphalt and gravel as the strain intensified. Benton rolled out of the way, just avoiding a particularly violent explosion. A fire hydrant exploded, sending debris everywhere while icy-cold water jetted above.

Race had forgotten how cold it was; the fires and exertion had thoroughly warmed him up. He shouted a few more orders before jumping into the SUV and gunning the engine. Benton and Hadji jumped in. All around, the operatives hopped into their vehicles. The area was secure, at least for now.

Benton almost laughed ironically. Their intense battle had only been a small scuffle in the grand scheme of things. He wondered how Seth was faring… the boy had been totally confused when Jade had dragged him along on the trip.

_Jonny…_

"Those binding spells are slammin'!" Hadji said, and laughed. Jonny had tried to teach him the phrase, but he had never been able to pull them off with much conviction. Benton and Race laughed too. Another tremor shook the earth.

"Oh shit!" Race yelled, slamming hard on the brakes. The vehicle careened and skidded to a halt, jolting violently as it rode over a massive bump.

"What the hell, Race?" Benton demanded. He clutched his head where he had slammed it heavily on the side. "Holy shit!"

Race had stopped the vehicle at the lip of a sharp drop. The roads had shifted so violently that an entire chunk had relocated over a craggy cliff. Even now, the only thing that had stopped them effectively, though violently, was the curb. Breathing in controlled breaths now, Race put the vehicle into reverse and backed-up.

"No point getting killed the boring way today," he noted, his jaw set in grim determination.

"Too late for that!" Benton muttered, pointing ahead.

Race and Hadji stared out into the darkness and their sharp gasps told Benton that they saw the giant wave cresting in the near distance. The foam flecked body of water thundered as it rose higher still.

JQJQJQ

ISRAEL

"Quit wasting time!" Caine said, his tone was harsh and impatient. Personally, Seth couldn't blame the guy for impatience, they had been standing there for nearly two hours, and still nothing had happened. He had no idea how to work the mojo at all, and it was beginning to piss him off. It was like handing him all the ingredients to making a pie without the instructions.

Seth turned around and glared at him. "You wanna do it instead? Coz I really don't have a clue on how to do this!"

Caine laughed, a raspy bark in the gloom. "And I-1 sent all these men to watch this pipsqueak!" he exclaimed loudly.

Jade turned on Caine. "You're here to assist him, not watch him!"

Caine laughed again, and it was beginning to grate on Seth's nerves. He watched as Jade argued with the big guy, her posture rigid and cold with rage.

"Don't you dare aim your guns at him!" she snapped, her eyes glinting dangerously in the dim light.

"I'm giving the orders here!" Caine shoved Jade sharply aside. She stumbled into the arms of one of the hired arms. "Get your hands off me, private!" she sneered.

Seth moved so quickly that no one saw him till he had a knife at Caine's throat. "Do that again, and I swear next time, this blade will not rest quite so gently!" he spat, before slamming Caine to the ground with a graceful maneuver. He stalked back to the edge of the emptiness, and did not see Caine till he heard Jade's scream. Turning around, he saw that Caine had whipped out his pistol and aimed it at him.

A shot rang out in the darkness, and Jade's scream echoed it.

Seth waved his arm, immediately changing the density of the air around him. He saw the bullet come at him as it ripped through the air, creating ripples in the altered density of the atmosphere. It slowed down… but not enough. The bullet ripped through his chest, pain firing through his brain.

Just as quickly as the pain had seared through him, Seth felt a change in his being…

"Oh f…!" Seth cried, as he felt energy surge through his being, flooding him with power unheard of. The infusion of power was beyond anything he had ever felt before as it shot through his limbs; he was no longer Seth, just a vessel that overflowed with great magic. Dark magic.

Standing at the abyss, Seth collapsed onto his knees, and he screamed as the forces pummeled at him, bolts of untold potency slamming over and over into him. Each hit hurt him, slicing deep into the core of his soul, threatening to tear him apart. "Jade…!" he screamed. "Help me…!" His voice grew foreign to his own ears, as everything clouded over. The pain became nothing more than a haunting reality, He felt soothed, bathed in a magical salve.

Deep inside, he felt the locks give way, that old familiarity came back and he was now the wielder and not the used. He was whole again.

He stood up… And turned around. The wound was gone; all that remained was the bloody stain in the front, and a bloodier rip at the point of exit of the bullet.

"Put the guns down!" he commanded, glaring at the barrels that were trained on him. "I said put them down!" he swept his arms aside, and an unseen force seemed to knock everyone back. He smiled, his eyes glowing a transparent blue in his tan face. "Much better."

Caine stood trembling; this entity scared the living crap out of him. The boy had been intimidating, but the force that stood in front of him now was terrifying.

Seth just sneered at him. "Do it again. I dare you!" Turning to Jade, he said, "I have to help _him_."

Jade nodded. She did not recognize the entity that stood before her. The shell was her son, but she could not see any part of the being that matched him. Where he had once been beautiful, this being was now terrible. She knew that it was more than a glamour that cloaked him now; she felt the power that surged within him.

He was the thing I-1 had feared all along… a weapon with an automatic trigger and no failsafe.

Seth stepped to the edge of the abyss and then stepped off it. Jade watched in bewildered amazement as he seemed to walk on air, no wobble or anything that indicated that his position was any more precarious than when on solid ground. A gale swept through the caverns, a great roar in the dark that flickered the torches as it whipped past. Dust and debris stung her as she shielded her eyes; the yells behind her indicating that the soldiers felt it too as the wind picked up.

Raising his arms in supplication, she heard Seth offer a short prayer to the Goddess for strength. Jade smiled. She was Eileen's son after all, raised with knowledge of the Old Religion. Stretching his arms out now, he rode the winds, rising until he was at the center of the cavern.

"GODDESS, HEAR MY PLEA! GREAT MOTHER, RECEIVE THE PRAYER OF YOUR CHILD! BY ALL YOUR NAMES KNOWN TO MANKIND AND THOSE UNKNOWN TO EVEN THE DIVINE, I CALL YOU NOW!" Seth's voice thundered through the great space, shaking the ground as the gale intensified.

"The bastard's going to kill us all!" Caine yelled. He had armed himself again, and now stood bracing himself against the wind. "This place reeks of evil power!"

A laugh reverberated through the space. "FOOLISH MAN! THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS EVIL POWER! THERE IS JUST POWER; IT'S THE MISUSE THAT MAKES IT EVIL!" Seth sneered, his body illuminated with an unearthly light.

"Seth, hurry up! You have no idea what prolonged exposure to such power will do to you!" Jade yelled, her voice pitifully smothered by the roaring wind. Another laugh.

"I'M QUITE AWARE OF WHAT WILL HAPPEN, MOTHER!" he laughed again. Jade detected a slight hint of lunacy in it. "EVEN NOW, IT'S KILLING ME, THE CONTROL, THAT IS. I COULD JUST LET GO, AND IT'LL FEEL GREAT! HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF SOMEONE WHO FELT GREAT WHILE DYING?"

"Just close the gates and release it!"

"ENOUGH ORDERS!" She watched as the illumination that framed him got brighter and he rose even higher. His voiced boomed once more, rising above the fury of the storm that they stood in, becoming a force of nature itself. _He is a tempest! _Jade realized, and shuddered at the thought of the storm that would come should he be unleashed upon the world. _He's unstable, _the reality hit her for the first time, and watching her son now, she saw him as I-1 did. _He must be contained… _She lowered her gaze softly. The arid dust dried her tears.

"_I know what you're thinking, Mother!"_ He was speaking to her, but it wasn't the booming voice that shook the very foundations of the earth. He spoke only to her. Her blood chilled. He could read her thoughts!

"_You're right. You must stop the force!" _Looking up once more, she thought she glimpsed a flash of a smile from the creature above. _"Help me…"_

"EARTH, QUELL YOUR STORMS! I COMMAND YOUR OCEANS! CLEAR THE SKIES!" Flicking a wrist, his intensified the glow that already surrounded him, the translucent aura becoming pure light. "I SOOTHE YOUR TREMORS, I CALM YOUR WATERS, I FREE THE HEAVENS!" The glow pulsed now with unfathomable potency.

"We're going to be swallowed by that glow!" Someone yelled from the back, and Jade knew he was right. _What will it do to us all? _she wondered.

"_Nothing. It's only meant to cease the apocalypse…"_

"Stand your ground, soldier!" Jade commanded. "We'll be fine!"

"How'd you know?" the same voice questioned.

"I just know, okay, dammit!" she snapped back.

"I DEFY THE DARKNESS! I ENGULF THE EVIL! I FORTIFY THE BARRIERS, I CLOSE THE GATEWAYS!" The hum of energy was almost palpable now. _I can almost taste it,_ Jade mused.

"_It's a bittersweet thing…" _Seth said in a mournful tone that contrasted the majestic image that still levitated over them. _"I'm so tired…" _

_Then let go! _She urged.

"_I must do this… This is my destiny, I guess." _She could almost see the casual shrug that would have accompanied that last remark.

_You don't have to die!_

"_Do you think it's possible to strengthen all the barriers, and close all the portals to hell without destroying myself in the process?" _He was mildly sarcastic, and Jade knew that this was the son she could have loved.

_Why did you agree to do it then?_

"_It had to be done, Mom… Victories call for little sacrifices…"_

_Little? Goddamn you! You're not… _She trailed away.

_So be it! _Seth was spinning now, a blurry core of the cyclone of light that reflected off the dusty particles that saturated the air. The light that pulsed now was blinding. _Close your eyes! _And Jade knew that this time, he wasn't only speaking to her. With a final look at him, she closed her eyes and bent her head.

A humming moment of intensity, and then it was over. The caverns had resumed their original gloom, with only the flashlights to provide beams of dull illumination. The winds had died all-together though the air was still rich with the alkaline dust. As the dust cleared, she saw him. No longer illuminated with the glow of power, but glowing with life.

JQJQJQ

SUNNYDALE

Jonny jumped out of Cordy's car, unsheathing his sword as he ran the remaining way up the hill. _I was right! _he noted. The center of the storm seemed to hover above him now, the core of the gigantic swirls of storm clouds that blotted out the sky. Lightning ripped the heavens again, more bloody cracks emerged. The moon, partially obscured by the black clouds was red.

"Too late again, Slayer!" Lightning flashed and he saw Prumiva standing at the edge of a precipice that overlooked a shallow vale. She laughed, her fangs glinting in the dark.

Suddenly, he found himself surrounded by vampires, Prumiva's hellish brethren. He sliced an arm clean off at the shoulder before cleaving the skull of another. Making fast work of most of the inexperienced newborns, he found himself going against some vampires that struck him as older than time.

"Why open the hellgates, Prumiva?" he yelled, punching a vampire in the face, his fist making pulp of the vampire's nose. He winced as he felt talons shear through his jeans, ripping flesh as well. Staking it, he kicked another in the groin before decapitating it. "You know how the Old Ones look at vampires! Half-breeds! Bastardized offspring borne of the human parasites! Your kind will be hunted off the face of the earth!"

"They will heed this!" She brandished an oilskin wrapped package. The Book.

Jonny laughed, loud enough for her to hear. "The Book? That's your only defense?"

"It's the essence of their existence!" Prumiva crowed victoriously.

"Wrong! It's the essence of _your _existence! The Old Ones are a primitive evil! An evil that pre-existed written text and pre-dates any modern knowledge."  
"But the incantations to awaken them are all in here!" Doubt tinged her reply.

"To bring them back, yes. But it does not give existence to them. They've always existed. An ancient entity bidding its time to re-enter the realm that was once theirs. To re-establish a line of demonic purity!" A hard kick to the base of his spine sent him sprawling, the Blade falling out of his grasp. He rolled instinctively, avoiding a crushing blow. Another hard blow sent him down on the ground again, the muddy earth a soft landing spot. Jonny spat out mud, and wiped his vision clear. He took a heavy kick to the gut and rolled over in pain. A hard kick to the head floored him. Jonny blinked, trying to clear his vision. Flashes of color and pinpricks of light did the Irish Jig.

Two pairs of arms pinned him down, and then hoisted him up. Stumbling and dazed, Jonny struggled weakly. Prumiva grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up. Her talons bit into his scalp and he felt a trickle of blood down his neck. He tensed his neck, expecting to feel her fangs ripping into the tender flesh there. He swallowed hard, semi-amused by how helpless he felt right now.

She laughed. "No, sweetie… you're not going out quite so easy." She licked the blood that ran down his face, and Jonny shivered from cold touch of her fangs. "Look," she rasped into his ear, tilting his head so that he looked into the vale.

Jonny shuddered. Filling a vast expanse of the vale was some sort of hive, and in each "comb," demons writhed in their embryonic sacs. He understood now… the Old Ones would have to be reborn into this world. The "hive" was a womb, the gate itself that functioned as a great incubation chamber for the legions of demons that would overrun the world if they didn't stop them.

The hive shuddered, eliciting a low moan.

"Holy shit! The thing's alive!" he breathed. It had emerged from a huge crack in the earth, almost unearthed. The creature was so huge, it didn't seem able to move, anchored in place by hundreds of projections that dug into the earth like roots.

"It's the Mother," Prumiva said gleefully. "She's in labor… and she's hungry!"

"Figures the bitch would be!" Jonny muttered.

"You're the entrée!" Prumiva released her hold on his hair and smacked him across the face.

The momentary blinding pain was all it took to snap him out of the stupor he had allowed himself to sink into. Crushing a vampire's face with a headbutt that hurt like hell, he tripped his bloodied foe and sent him rolling down the vale. He watched in horrified fascination as the hive raised its head that resembled nothing more than a giant maw with rows of teeth that carved and tore flesh and bone like a paper-shredder. Wresting his arm free from his other foe, he sent her tumbling down the hill as well.

Launching himself into a powerful midair flip, he kicked two more vampires over the edge. As he tucked and rolled, he heard Prumiva scream: "Get the sword!"

Jonny broke into a run, his torn thigh burning with each step he took. He dove for the sword, reaching it a bare second before a second pair of hands made a grab for it. The hands lay unmoving on the ground and the vampire screamed in agony before another arc of the Blade took off her head. Pulling out the stake he kept in his belt loop, he threw it at a vampire, dusting him before ripping the head off another vampire with his sword.

Jonny stood still, marked with mud and blood. He breathed heavily, and as the dust settled into the falling rain, he looked up at Prumiva and smiled. "All dust. You're next!" he grinned, marching steadily at her. "In fact, let's even things out." He stuck the Blade in between them, right at the lip of the fall.

"Stupid boy!" Setting the Book wrapped in protective oilskins on the ground, she sprang at him, her talons flashing with ferocious speed. Jonny sidestepped the attack, but not before she drew first blood across his chest. His shirt flapped in the wind, the front shredded.

With a rolling motion, he fell into step with her, rain and mud flying as they punched and kicked each other. Prumiva slammed him onto the ground with a neat trip, and fell onto him, fangs bared for the kill. Using the slippery ground to his advantage, Jonny spun into a quick spin and caught her in the head with a hard kick. Flipping back onto his feet, he caught hold of her hair and slammed her into a tree.

Pulling back her head, he slammed her face hard again, feeling and hearing the satisfactory crack of her skull against the ancient wood. Revenge drove his fist as slammed her once more before pounding a hard punch to the back of her head, slamming the head once more against the rough bark. Wrenching her head around, he punched the pulped face and kicked her once more into the tree.

Prumiva stared back in a daze, blood obscuring her vision. She lunged weakly once more, but Jonny kicked her back and drove a stake into her throat, cutting out her scream.

"I would have made this a hundred times more painful and worth my time if it changed anything. But you killed her. You took her away from me, and nothing will bring her back to me. For that, you deserve more pain than I can possibly give you!" He stared at her lifeless eyes. "You wanna beg for your miserable existence now?" he sneered. "Thought so." He slammed the stake all the way through her neck, feeling the resistance of bone before it punched through and slammed into the tree.

_Dust… that was all there was to it. _A roar tore through the night. _Labor pains… shit! _Running to the edge, he picked up his sword and took a deep breath before launching himself down the slope, sliding on the slick surface.

Timing was key; mistiming his final leap would simply mean going down in the Slayer annals as "the one who was shredded inside the Mother." He saw her open her maw again, a deafening roar nearly deafened him. As she lunged forward to consume him, he tensed his legs and sprang forward, closing the gap between them with a yell.

He was inside the beast, sliding down the wet tongue with nothing to stop his fall. Desperate, Jonny slammed the Blade deep into the soft tissue. He almost sickened at the wet shredding noise it made as it finally came to a stop, caught in something. The Mother convulsed, pain ripping through her. The enormous tongue pressed Jonny hard against the soft throat, crushing him in its slimy embrace. His wounds burned in the acidic spit.

He would have to destroy it from within. Pulling the Blade out, he hacked desperately at the tongue, slicing off bloody chunks. _Go for the brain! _Just as he was about to plunge the Blade upwards, the tongue flicked his to the front of the maw, pushing him closer to the rows of serrated teeth. _Plan B! _Jonny plunged the Blade into the side, hacking his way to the eye socket. With a massive swing, he severed the nerve and punctured the eyeball, releasing the jelly-like substance inside. Taking a deep breath, he plunged in, and carved an exit out of the membrane and tumbled out of the destroyed eye. Rolling as he fell, he stabbed the Blade into one of the sacs, releasing the suspension fluid. The demon within lay unmoving but Jonny hacked it anyway, just for good measure.

_One down, about a billion left. _Tumbling out of reach of the swinging head, he sliced open another sac. The Mother screamed in pain, her body wracked in convulsions. _Oh no… she's really in labor. They're about to be born! _Lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating the sacs of viscous fluid. The scream continued to rend into the night and the giant head swung in crazed motions. The sacs came alive, the demons within waking up. The membrane-like substance that kept them in rippled as they began to move.

"Seth!" Jonny yelled, slicing another demon right through before cleaving another all the way through.

"_I'm here…"_

"Seth?"

"_Yeah… hold on. I'm working on it!"_

"You better work fast! The Mom's in labor, and she's getting really cranky. And the brood ain't puppies!" He hacked at another sac.

"_Working on it…"_

With a hideous scream, the Mother unearthed herself, her serpentine body rising to the sky like a mythological dragon awakening from its slumber. The projections that had held her fast now showered wet dirt on Jonny, the embryonic sacs all about to burst open to a start a new age of hell on earth.

"Seth… whatever it is you're doing, I need your mojo now!"

"_So be it…"_

"What?" _No reply. _Then suddenly, there was a flash of searing light, and the Mother screeched, the most horrible sound yet. Looking up, he saw her burning in the light, her rusty-colored skin blackening from the horrible scorching she suffered. One by one, the sacs burst, and the demons screamed, popping and exploding, showering the earth with blazing innards. Jonny rolled back as a particularly large chunk slammed down, still smoldering.

"Seth… you did it! You crazy bastard… you did it!" he yelled, whooping in joy.

The Mother let out a final shriek, before falling down, her reared body crashing down to earth. Jonny scrambled up the slippery hill, risking a glance over his shoulder as the massive hulk of charred slime crashed into the muddy ground, sending up a massive spray of mud. The stench of burnt flesh was so rancid that Jonny leant aside and vomited… an urge he had been fighting since he laid eyes on the beast.

He picked up the Book. _A present for I-1, _he noted grimly. They would probably appreciate being finally able to keep it in one of their dusty vaults so that no one could ever use it ever again.

* * *

"Buffy, look out!" She saw Angel grab a vampire by the throat and fling her into the window of a store. She noted that he was bleeding considerably in some areas, but that he would live. She noted that she was covered in minor cuts and bruises; more than she would have liked.

The portals were still opening all over, inky pools of darkness that welcomed more of the ancient hell-brethren. Willow looked exhausted, and yet she gamely held her ground, working her magic to close the doorways. Giles stood beside her, casting spells too.

Whipping about, she staked a vampire and kicked another into Angel's arms. She heard the soft whoosh, and knew that another one lay dusted.

She watched with pride as Xander fought beside Cordy, protecting her as best as he could. Cordy was in her groove, staking two vampires although she never lost the terrified expression on her face.

"Buffy!" She turned to see Willow collapsing in Giles' arms. "There are too many!" The pain on his face was evident, he was tired too.

The white light engulfed them before they knew what happened. In the glare, Buffy saw the portals pulse and close, the light driving away the inky darkness. In fear, the remaining vampires and demons fell back. The light had not scathed them, but who knew what was next.

"Jonny's friend did it, I guess," Buffy breathed. She smiled, and then began to laugh. She held Angel as she felt the tension drain from her limbs. "We did it… again."

He smiled and wiped the tears of joy off her face. "Again."

JQJQJQ

MAINE

The first wave crashed, the force knocking the SUV over and washing it inland. From the corner of his eye, Race saw one of the less fortunate Hummers going over with the backflow of the wave. The screams of the men died as the crashing surf claimed them.

"Everybody out!" he yelled, disentangling himself from his seat belt. Thankfully the doc and Hadji were fine, although Benton was bleeding from the head. The roar of another incoming wave drew nearer.

Race tumbled out onto the cold wet asphalt. He dragged Hadji out and helped Benton to his feet. "Run! Get as far inland as possible!" he yelled over the roaring surf.

The wave crested again, the dark shadow falling over them as they ran. A row of shops loomed in the near distance. "Get behind the buildings for cover. Hold on to anything!" Benton yelled. All around them pandemonium broke out as people fled for cover. "Behind the buildings!" Benton yelled again, waving his arms frantically to get the attention of the panicked mass. "Behind the buildings!"

Just as the wave crashed, Benton dove for cover, and held onto a drainage pipe for dear life. The freezing water fell on them, the backwash pulling hard at them.

"Hold on, there'll be another one!" Race yelled, his teeth chattering in the cold. There was a flash of light. "What the…?"

The next wave never came. There was no roaring surf, no thundering wave, no looming shadow. As they came out from cover, they surveyed the destruction of the streets: crashed cars, destroyed roads, shattered windows, various flotsam and jetsam from the oceans depths now littered the streets. Bodies lay strewn about, some broken beyond recognition, others barely alive. The operatives were already at work, some dealing with the casualties while others secured the area.

"I wonder if the house is still standing," Benton noted in chagrin. "But the ocean's calm now." He pointed out and the waves, though still high, were nowhere near the destructive dimensions of the ones that had hit before.

"Seth did it!" Hadji whooped. "He ended it!"

"Maybe this is it then. The end of the apocalypse!" Benton smiled. "And we're still standing!"

JQJQJQ

ISRAEL

He smiled, a grin that broke the lines of dust on his face.

"How…?" Jade asked, embracing him. "I thought you…"

"Died?" he laughed. "I did. At least a part of me did."

She looked hard at him, and realized that he was changed somewhat. _Happier, less burdened… _"You lost all of it?" _No more power…_

He nodded. "Tradeoff. All that ever made me special for this. All of this…" he laughed again and hugged her again. She could smell the sweat and dust on him. He was human… Her son.

"Mom?"

She nodded.

"Let's go home, wherever it is!"

"Sorry to break up this family reunion, but we have to take him back into protective custody. Run tests and certify him safe," Caine cut in.

Seth rose to his full height and Jade saw the cover of a glamour fall on him again. Instantly, he stood taller and seemed more imposing than ever. _He still has some tricks…_

"I'm not going anywhere with you! Tell I-1 that I'm done jumping through hoops for them. I quit!" He glared at Caine. "You try anything, and the Destined One will have your ass on a one-way flight to Siberia on a wild goose chase for ice demons! For an indefinite period of time!" he added, smirking. That seemed to do it, Caine stood down, deflated. "Thought so…" Taking Jade by the hand, they marched out of the gloom, leaving Caine to rally his men.

Out of the darkness, something hit Caine in the side of the head. He picked it up and looked bewildered. A chunk of ice?

To be continued…


	19. Chapter 19: Epilogue: Cycles

Date: August 9th, 2005

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.

Category: A, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover

Rating: Parental guidance is advised.

Author's note: This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.

Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.

**EPILOGUE: CYCLES**

He stood on the hilltop, a disheveled and bloodied warrior, watching as the pink dawn appeared; something which he had taken for granted until recently. As the shreds of clouds began to lose their pink stain and became tinged with the richest gold, the sun rose. The sky turned to the clearest blue imaginable, a virgin azure that was free from any of the evil from the night before.

Jonny took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Foul isn't it?" he asked, without turning.

Buffy stepped next to him. "How'd you know?"

"I know." He left it at that, and he knew she understood.

"So, that's what you fought last night?" she asked, letting a little awe show. The massive charred carcass still smoked.

He smiled. "That's what _we_ fought… all of us. The end of the world! And look…" He waved his arms in an arc. "The sun's still shining and we're still standing. I think that's enough cause for a small celebration."

"Just a small one." There was sadness in her voice.

"I'm sorry he can't share this with you."

"So am I. But in his own way, he does"

Jonny nodded. "How'd you know I was still here?"

"I didn't. But I had to find out. If you weren't, I needed to know if you had left, or simply perished in the fight."

"Still here. I could stand for a long hot shower, and I'll need to be going."

"How's home?"

"I checked in. Everyone's okay. We had some killer waves on top of everything else, but Sunnydale was hit worse." He set his jaw. "I can already see the damage to the city."

Buffy gazed at the city, and grimly noted that the town was badly damaged in many areas. Deep cracks veined the streets and sidewalks, and upheavals of the earth had caused many buildings to collapse in places, as well as shift many of the roads. Smoke still rose from sections of buildings and the flashing lights of emergency personnel blinked like Christmas lights.

"How 'bout you? You okay?"

"As I said, I need a shower. But otherwise, aside from being a major bruise all over, I should be okay." He grinned and she realized that he was not much worse for wear than she was.

"Thank your friend for us. For all of us. He must be something special…"

Jonny smiled. "He is…" He turned away. "Guess I'll be headed for Angel's then. Clean up and all."

"Are you leaving? Like right away?"

Jonny shrugged. "Nothing left for me over here. Job's done. Got my own town to protect tonight."

"No rest for the wicked, huh?"

"You know it!" He brushed his hair aside. "Nor for the Slayer."

"It's a hard existence."

"Hard life you mean. This is our life, Buffy."

"I know."

"Hey, it could be worse."

"How?"

"We could just be average spoilt high school kids, with not a care in the world beyond the next Abercrombie catalog!"

"I was that. It wasn't too bad…" she joked.

He laughed. "Merry Christmas, Buffy!"

JQJQJQ

MAINE

Benton heaved a sigh of relief. The Quest Compound had not been badly damaged by the killer tsunamis. The guest wing had sustained some minor damage; some water had been forced in by the sheer force of the waves, and a few windows were broken. Other than some damaged upholstery and window fixtures, the rest of the wing was relatively unspoiled.

"Could've been worse, I guess, Doc," Race noted, a jovial grin spreading on his face.

Benton nodded. "A lot worse. The lighthouse is fine, I already checked that." Straightening up, he surveyed the rest of the compound with a calculated analysis. "We'll just have to scoop up about a ton of kelp and driftwood, but aside from that, the Compound's in pretty good shape."

"As compared to the time when Zin completely crushed it," Hadji added, kicking aside a clump of seaweed. "This stuff smells awful!"

"How's Jonny?" Race asked, looking out over the ocean.

"About as good as can be expected. He promised he wasn't going to die, although I'm not sure whether I should be comforted by his choice of words, or otherwise." Benton shuddered. "He said he would be home today, though."

"Shouldn't he be resting?" Hadji asked, frowning.

"I told him to take a day, but he insisted on flying home today. Something about having to take care of the town."

"Duty," Race nodded. "He's finally understood the weight placed on his shoulders."

"It's a heavy burden, Race," Benton added ruefully. "Immensely heavy."

"Not even you can help him with this one, Benton. The boy's path had already been chosen, whether he accepts it or not." Surveying the damage once more, he said, "I'll call the construction team tomorrow."

A sharp yelp alerted them to the white streak that ran around them in dizzying circles. Hadji laughed and picked up the dog. "You missed us, didn't you, Bandit?"

Bandit gave an adamant bark in reply as he squirmed in Hadji's strong arms. Laughing, the man released him, and the dog ran back indoors. _To Jonny's room most likely, _Hadji thought, his high spirits dampened by a little more than the chill of the morning air.

"Let's go in," Benton said, headed indoors himself. "I need food and a hot shower!"

* * *

Race got off the phone. "Jade and Seth are on their way back. The Dragonfly II has been authorized for take-off in a few hours."

Benton nodded gravely. He had been worried about the two of them, even more so for the boy. Jade had run the plan quickly by him, and he had seriously doubted the boy's capabilities. He had agreed solely on the fact that should they fail, at least the boy would have been removed from immediate danger. Seth had not seemed eager to go, cracking his knuckles nervously on the drive to the airport.

_He did it though. We did what we could to stall, but he saved the world, _Benton realized. Picturing Seth's lanky frame, Benton couldn't help but be awed by the sheer immensity of the power that the boy must possess.

"What about Jonny?" Hadji asked, looking up from the newspaper he had been reading. News on the apocalypse had made it to the front page, but it had been severely played down; authorities claiming that it was a simple natural disaster and the catastrophic events that occurred, the product of an abrupt shift in the tectonic plates. Several similar reports from different states also made the bottom column, including Sunnydale, California.

"His flight should be taking off anytime soon."

* * *

Jonny stepped into the arrival lounge and scanned the area for a familiar face. His gaze fell on the languid form of Seth, leaning against a pillar, a bored expression on his face as he sipped absently at his soda. Jonny gave a brief wave and saw Seth nod in acknowledgement. _Typical,_ he thought. _Emotionless as usual. _But even then, he knew that it wasn't true; the automaton façade that hid the real Seth was just mostly impermeable. He had seen a glimpse of him…

Slinging the duffel on his shoulder and picking up the carefully wrapped sword, he headed over to Seth's general vicinity. "Where's everyone else?" he asked.

"Dr. Quest is addressing a local committee meeting in town tonight, something about last night's 'strange happenings.' Race is working on re-programming some of the security features temporarily till the damage sustained by the Compound can be fixed. Hadji is dropping Jade off to whichever secret location she's headed for next." He shrugged. "That leaves just me. Unless you preferred Bandit."

Jonny smiled. "I'm not complaining. But Bandit would have been nice too."

Seth turned and began to head out. "He's in the car."

"Seth!" He turned around at the call of his name. "Thank you," Jonny said, looking his square in the eyes. "What you did… I will never understand what it is that you did, but it was amazing, and it saved us all. _You_ saved us all!"

Seth smiled, a wan ghost of his radiance. "I did what I had to do…" His voice was touched with sadness, and even deeper than that, Jonny saw the pain that still burned him. An inextinguishable flame that would glower indefinitely.

* * *

"I'm leaving," Seth announced as he guided the car smoothly along the ridge road that girdled the cliffs. "Next week."

"Seth…"

"My job is done. I can no longer do more," Seth continued, cutting Jonny off.

"But…"

"I can't help you anymore here…"

"Shut up, goddammit!" Jonny snapped. "What the hell are you talking about? You just saved our asses. If it wasn't for you last night, we wouldn't be having this argument right now!"

"You shut up!" Seth exploded, slamming on the brakes and swinging the wheel to the side of the road. "You were right before! You have no idea what happened last night, so don't you dare give me shit about my decision!"

"Why don't you make me understand then, Seth? Why don't you let me in for once? For possibly the first time in your life, why don't you let someone see who you are?"

"Because I don't like myself, Jon! Because I hate what I've become, who I've become!" Seth stared out at the snowy landscape that lined the other side of the cliff, breathing deeply, his breath fogging up the glass. "I'm not who I want to be, Jon… I'll probably never be that. I'm the product of bastardization and rape, not of love and care!"

Seeing the tenderness in Jonny's face, he quickly added, "Not rape in that way, Jon. But for as long as I can remember, I've always had this force within me, this unnatural gift that no human should have to bear. It's a gift, but so are curses; they're given without your consent or expectation. I've learned to be useful, but I don't feel useful anymore."

"So this is it? You're throwing in the towel because you can't deal with it anymore?"

Seth laughed, a choked cackle that caught in the phlegm in his throat. Swallowing, he said, "I threw in the towel last night. It was the simplest decision I'd ever made, and it was so easy."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I gave up last night, Jonny. I surrendered myself willingly to powers that were beyond my human expectations; powers that ripped me to shreds and reassembled this enormous well of magic that's never been known to mankind. In that moment, I was both Creation and Destruction, Eros and Thanatus, Brahma and Siva! I was as the Goddess and gods were before we boxed them into the roles of the pagan temptress and almighty Father. I saw our entire existence for what it was, a blink of an eye, and I saw you fighting to preserve that. And I gave up.

"I let it go… It would have destroyed me, and I let it go… At a price, of course."

Feeling Jonny's hand close on his, the warmth creeping up his chilled fingers, he continued. "I no longer have any power, Jonny. I'm not your healer anymore… I'm just broken."

"You learned you healing powers, you can do it again."

Seth shook his head. "That part of me is gone forever…"

"Forever's a very long time."

"And this will last longer."

"So it's all gone?"

"I still have some… earth magic that I was born with." Seeing the surprise in Jonny's face, Seth realized how much of his life he had veiled away, even from the one person he had ever loved. "I carry one of the many lines of an ancient world, lost to civilization, but not to faith. That was also a reason for my selection as the avatar for the power that I-1 channeled into me."

"And because the greater part of power is gone, you think that you're no longer of any use to us?" Jonny asked incredulously.

"I was your healer, that was my job. I can't do that anymore. I'm pretty sure that puts me within the context of useless."

Jonny groaned. "Your entire life does not revolve around your job or duty, Seth! There's still _you _to think about, the human aspect to look forward to. You're not worthless because you can no longer perform the task that you were trained to do!"

There was no reply.

"What were you going to do? Go back to running errands for I-1? You're greater than than and you know it. So stay here. Help in whatever way you can! We're gonna need someone to help along with the research… Hadji's leaving soon."

Nothing again.

"This doesn't have anything to do with avoiding me, does it? Because of what we had?" Jonny was still holding on to Seth's slender hand and he felt it tighten.

"It'll be difficult," Seth said, turning around finally. "At first. But I'll get over it… and life will go on." He smiled and put the gear into shift.

* * *

Jonny set idly on gravestone, twirling his stake around while waiting impatiently. His breath fogged with each exhalation. All the victims of the night before had been buried in this cemetery, with no charge to the family members. A Christmas present from the town who shared the sorrow of those surviving the deceased.

_Hush money, _Jonny grimaced. But it was better than setting off mass hysteria among the townfolk. Unless the sleepy town needed a little shock to get it on its feet. _Till then, I'll have to be the wheelchair. _

The frost-packed earth shifted. _Showtime!_

THE END


End file.
